This Time Imperfect
by possiblycrazee
Summary: AU. Anomalies lead to the prehistoric past, right? ... Right?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

**March 21**

**Friston Forest**

**11:26:13am**

"Professor!" Connor's voice cut through the trees, a little too loud and very uncertain, "Professor… Nick! This is something you really need to see!"

Nick exchanged a look with Stephen, frowning slightly at the uncertainty in Connor's voice. They both scooped up their gear and headed into the woods. At another hesitant call from Connor, Stephen broke into a jog. Nick picked up the pace, walking faster, struggling with his maps and kit.

"Cutter…" now it was Stephen's turn to sound utterly dubious.

Nick broke through the trees, coming to a halt beside the other two men, and blinked, "Its gold," he said flatly.

"Yes, it is," Stephen answered, not taking his eyes off the shimmering anomaly.

"Should it be gold?" Nick turned to Connor to answer this.

Connor shook his head helplessly, shaggy hair falling into his eyes, "I have no idea."

"Pretty, though," Abby's voice made them all jump.

"Yeah, in a way."

"Ladies, gentlemen," Lester's disgruntled voice came from behind, "Whether the thing is pretty or not is really not a matter up for debate. We need to establish that nothing has come through to this side," as Nick opened his mouth to speak, he sighed and continued, "And send someone through to gather vital data, etc, etc… yes, Professor, I know."

An imperious gesture from Lester made Captain Ryan nod abruptly and turn away. As he turned, he rolled his eyes at his men, making Lyle turn a snigger into a cough. He hefted his weapon in his hands, taking long, striding steps across the clearing to the rest of the Special Forces unit. Ryan waited until he had the attention of every man.

"Set up a perimeter around the anomaly," the Captain cast an uneasy eye at it, "Double the rearguard, two extra on either side."

Knowing that his men would do as he asked, Ryan turned his back on them and the gold anomaly and walked over to where Nick, Stephen and, inexplicably, Connor were gearing up. He frowned a little. His checked emotions were outdone by Abby's waving arms and yelled words.

"Are you bloody mad, Connor?!" she gesticulated wildly at his gear, "You don't go through the anomalies!"

Connor studiously ignored her, wincing slightly as her voice rose to a crescendo. He scooped up his compass, tucking it into his pocket, before bending down and hauling his backpack onto his shoulders. Nick and Stephen did the same, smiling back as Connor shot them a wide grin. Abby threw up her hands in defeat and walked away. Ryan raised an eyebrow after her retreating back.

"Sure you want to do this?" he asked calmly, gun held carefully across his chest.

Nick frowned at him, "You ask every time, Ryan. Have we ever not wanted to do this?"

Ryan snorted, "No. But under the circumstances, I think I should go through first."

"What?!" Connor looked incredibly put out.

Ryan looked at him, "Special Forces go in first, its protocol."

Stephen gave him a cheeky grin that lit up his eyes, "When we let you."

Ryan rolled his eyes, gesturing to the anomaly, "Its gold, Stephen."

"Yep."

He turned to Nick, "You don't know what that means."

"Nope."

"So I should go first."

"We know the areas on the other side of the anomaly," Nick argued, "We go first."

Ryan sighed, "Fine. But I am coming through right behind you," he slid a magazine home in his gun with a dull clunk, "And I will not hesitate to shoot anything that tries to kill me. I don't care what it is."

Nick flipped an impatient hand at him, making Ryan grit his teeth. Nick, Connor and Stephen moved past the soldier and lined up in front of the gold, shimmering anomaly. Connor was practically vibrating on the spot, shooting both Nick and Stephen wide, excited grins.

Ryan sighed, "Alright. Let's do this."

"Don't sound so enthusiastic," Stephen teased.

"It's gold," Ryan gestured with his gun.

"Yep," he replied.

Lester cut in impatiently, "And it's pretty," he raised an eyebrow, "I believe we've had this conversation before. I'm getting the most awful sense of déjà vu."

Lester gestured to the anomaly before continuing, "You have a go," an elegant hand rolled dismissively through the air, "Or whatever it is you military types say. Get out of my sight," he then turned away and stalked back to the Home Office's cars.

Ryan barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes at Lester's retreating back. Connor showed no such restraint and finished his eye roll with poked tongue. Ryan had to turn away to hide his smile. Nick poked Connor in the side, berating him, but the effect was lessened by the mirth in his eyes. Stephen's shoulders were shaking with barely suppressed laughter.

Nick cleared his throat, "Right then," he looked back at the anomaly, "Shall we?"

Stephen nodded, drawing his handgun, "Me first."

Ryan frowned at that but said nothing. He simply hefted his gun higher on his chest and watched. Stephen took a breath, let it out and stepped through. Nick hefted his pack and gestured to Connor. Connor's grin grew impossibly wider, and he followed Stephen through. Nick turned back to Ryan and gave him a nod, then headed through the anomaly.

Ryan heaved a sigh, still not liking the look of the gold anomaly. He took a few steps towards it, resisting the urge to scrunch his eyes shut and break into a jog. If Temple could walk through the damn thing eyes open and steady then so could he, damn it. He refused to admit, that as he got closer to the anomaly he clutched his weapon a little tighter to his chest. One step away from the anomaly, Ryan paused.

That was the biggest mistake Captain Tom Ryan ever made.

"The fuck?!"

The anomaly shimmered…

Ryan swore again…

The anomaly flickered…

Ryan threw himself at it…

Just as it disappeared into nothing.

Ryan landed on the ground with a pained grunt, "Christ…"

He rolled onto his back, gun up, and groaned, "Ah hell…"

Staring at him with undisguised shock and barely disguised humour, were most of his men. Except for Lyle and Ditzy, they didn't bother to disguise either their shock or their humour. There was also Lester. And all the Home Office staff. Ryan let his head thump back down onto the dirt. He'd missed it. He'd let the anomaly go. He'd failed. And now Cutter, Temple and Hart were stuck in the past.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"What the bloody hell is this place?!" Connor's slightly higher than normal voice asked the question they were all thinking.

"I think we can safely say that this isn't the Cretaceous," Stephen drew his gun, keeping it by his side.

Both Nick and Connor shot him a filthy look for that comment.

"This is so not right…" Connor turned full circle, "It… it was gold… that was wrong… wrong, wrong, wrong…"

Nick put a calming hand on the grad student's shoulder, making him jump, "Settle, Connor…" he gave him a reassuring smile and nodded to Stephen, who was gathering up their gear, "You're right, this isn't where we're supposed to be. So we'll just go back through and tell the Home Office that goin' through gold anomalies is a bad idea."

"A very bad idea," Stephen agreed sourly.

A round of clicks made Nick and Connor look around in confusion and made Stephen blanch, "Shit…" Stephen mumbled.

"Weapons on the ground. Hands in the air. Now," a woman's voice said from behind them.

All three men turned around, a little surprised to see a slight, Asian woman pointing a rifle at them, _"Waffen aus den Grund. __Hände in der Luft. Jetzt,"_ the Asian woman repeated herself in German when they still stared at her, unmoving in shock.

A scowl twisted her face, "Spanner," she barked, "You're up."

She moved backwards, allowing a taller, redheaded woman to step forward, _"Armes sur la terre. Mains dans le ciel. Maintenant."_

They all looked at her in shock, making her shake her head, braid swinging over one shoulder, "Good Christ in the morning! Do I have to try Spanish too?"

"Erm… no… we speak English…" Nick drew out.

"Oh…" the redhead, Spanner's face lit up in a smile, even as she pointed a pair of Berettas at their heads, "In that case, drop your goddamn weapons and put your hands above your head before I blow holes in you."

Stephen looked at her, "I'm the only one armed," he said, speaking in a voice designed to soothe wild animals.

He let his gun drop, hanging by the trigger-guard on one finger, "See? Just this."

The Asian woman gestured with her rifle barrel, "On the ground anyway."

Stephen nodded slowly, carefully crouching down and placing the gun on the floor, "Alright," he stood up just as slowly.

"Hands above your head," she gestured with her rifle barrel again.

All three men put their hands in the air, eyes wide. Connor's eyes flicked off to the anomaly. He looked up at Nick pleadingly. Nick shook his head helplessly. There was nothing he could do. Not unless he wanted to get them all shot. Connor turned his pleading eyes onto Stephen. Stephen gave him a lopsided, reassuring smile.

A voice made them all turn back, "Who's this, then?"

A man stepped up between the two women, "Where the bloody hell did they come from?"

They kept their arms raised above their heads. Stephen kept his breathing slow and steady, watching as the people surrounding them kept their guns trained fixedly at their heads. He could hear Nick's tense breathing to his left, and Connor's low babbled murmurs to his right. Stephen ignored this for a moment, taking a few seconds to study the people, the militiamen, in front of him.

He met the gaze; cool, hard and blue; of the man who appeared to be the leader. Stephen let his eyes travel up and down the man, studying him. His eyes stopped at the man's waist. His head tilted to the side. Clipped to the hardened militiaman's belt-loops were, inexplicably, a pair of the nicest gold cufflinks Stephen had ever seen.

Stephen fought the urge to look away from the militiaman's gaze. The rifle pointed squarely at his chest was lowered a fraction, not enough to allow Stephen to relax, merely enough to allow the hard-eyed renegade to speak over the barrel. Stephen noted, with no small amount of fear, that despite the rolling Welsh lilt permeating the other man's voice, his voice matched his eyes. Cold, hard and unreadable.

"Names. Now."

Stephen let his eyes flick towards Nick, indicating that he should take charge. That proved to be a mistake. As Stephen's eyes moved so too did the rifle. The barrel that had been fractionally lowered so the renegade leader could talk to Stephen came flying back up, red laser dot sighting directly over Stephen's heart.

"Don't. Move."

"This is so not where we're supposed to be," Connor moaned, eyes so wide the whites were showing, "Dinosaurs. Cretaceous, Permian, Jurassic. That's me. Not bloody armed maniacs in freaky Mad Max style Carnivale worlds!"

The eyes narrowed, before taking one hand off the barrel of the rifle and gesturing. The tall, lithe, redheaded woman stepped forward. Stephen, Connor and Nick all blanched at the sight of the deadly looking knives strapped to either wrist. The leader unclipped a pair of handcuffs from his belt and tossed them to the woman who caught them deftly. The redhead then gestured to the tiny, yet fierce-looking, Asian woman, who threw her the cuffs from her own belt.

"_Restrai hwynt," _the leader said, _"Gwna mo dybied rydyn bopeth hymddangosan."_

The redheaded woman raised an eyebrow at that, but nodded, "Hands. Come on, now!"

Stephen, Nick and Connor all presented their hands. Connor's trembling slightly. Nick's and Stephen's clenched to prevent it. All three men's hands were cuffed in front of them. Then, with the Asian woman's rifle nudged into the small of their backs, they were poked in the direction of an alley, away from the merrily shimmering gold anomaly behind them. Prodded none-too-gently down the alley, towards a black, surprisingly new-looking SUV, Connor looked back over his shoulder, nearly stumbling in the process. And paled…

"Oh no… No, no, no," he whispered.

Stephen and Nick turned their heads as well, ignoring the persistent nudging of the rifle barrel into their backs. Then they stopped dead. And turned nearly as white as Connor. They watched in horror, the unrelenting nudging from the Asian woman's rifle going unnoticed as they looked on. The gold anomaly, their only way home, flickered…

Then disappeared.

"Fuck."

"Shit."

They got a raised eyebrow from the Asian woman, followed by another nudge in the ribs, "In the car, boys."

Stephen, Nick and Connor climbed in the car as best they could with their hands cuffed in front of them. The Asian woman climbed in next to them, cradling her rifle to her chest, but still keeping it pointed at the three men. She ran her eyes over the three of them, smirking slightly.

"Keep it in your pants, Mariko," the redhead threw over her shoulder from the front seat.

The Asian woman, Mariko, responded with a rude hand gesture, "More balls than you, Spanner."

"Ladies…" the leader warned.

The redhead, Spanner, sat up straight and looked around, braid swinging wildly, "What what? Ladies? Where?"

The leader snorted, "Nice, Spanner."

The seemingly carefree banter between their captors was Connor's undoing, "What the hell is going on?!" he burst out, despite the repeated shushing from Nick and Stephen, "You… you… you're just… Argh! Where the bloody hell are we?! This is not the Friston Forest. It's not!"

He turned to Nick and Stephen who had their heads buried in their hands, "What?! It's not! It's really, really… really! Not! And I'm not done yet! Add to where the bloody hell are we… when the bloody hell are we? Did anyone think of that, then?"

Both women had turned in their seats to stare at Connor during his outburst. Even the militia leader raised his eyes to the rearview mirror to watch the ranting. Mariko and Ianto exchanged raised eyebrows and barely concealed smiles. Spanner raised an eyebrow of her own, before blinking slowly at the young man before her.

"Are you done?" she asked in a falsely sweet voice.

"What?" Connor looked confused.

"Are you finished?" the sweetness never left.

"I… yeah?" Connor looked even more confused.

And the confusion never left his face. Spanner simply pulled her sidearm out of its holster and thumped him in the temple with it. Connor froze for a second, before his face drained of colour, his eyes rolled up in his head and he flopped bonelessly into Stephen's lap. Spanner reached over and placed two fingers perfunctorily on his neck.

"Finally…" she sighed, "Thought I'd never get him to shut up."

"Connor!" Stephen patted the younger man's cheeks, shoving Spanner's hand out the way and checking his pulse himself.

"Stephen? Is he…?" Nick craned his neck to see across Spanner's gun barrel.

"He's fine," Spanner rolled her eyes at Nick, "I didn't hit him that hard."

"That hard…? You didn't need to hit him at all! You…" Nick's words were cut off with a pained grunt.

Stephen let out a startled yelp as Nick too slumped bonelessly against him, "What?! I…?" he looked at Spanner in shock and shook his head.

"Spanner…" Mariko let out a longsuffering sigh, "Enough with the hitting. Play nicely."

Connor couldn't remember ever having woken up with a bigger headache. Even when he and Duncan had downed a bottle of vodka each after Tom's funeral, the hangover could not compare to this. He groaned and opened his eyes. Then closed them again, squinting against the still dim light and struggling to bring an arm up to clumsily cover his eyes.

"Conn?"

That voice he knew. That voice… that voice… Stephen! Stephen was here. And if Stephen was here, then so was Nick. Connor tried to roll his head around, looking for Nick. That sent another sharp, stabbing pain through his head, making him groan again. Alright, moving was bad.

"Connor, hey… come on, mate… up here," Stephen's voice appeared in his line of vision.

Connor blinked hazily, eyes a little unfocused, "Stephen?"

"Yeah, Conn…" Stephen smiled a little, "How are you feeling?"

"Um…" Connor blinked again, "Yeah."

Stephen snickered, "That good, huh?"

Connor narrowed his eyes a little, "Head hurts. Shut up."

"Yeah," Stephen frowned, "I imagine Nick will wake up with one hell of a headache too."

"Nick?"

"Yeah… the redheaded fruitloop that beat you in the head smacked Nick around too," Stephen scowled, "He's still out of it."

"Up?" Connor reached out a hand towards Stephen.

Stephen snorted, "Don't get used to this," and curled an arm around his waist, manoeuvring him into a half-sitting position.

Connor bit back a groan as his head throbbed and his stomach churned, "How long've I been out?"

Stephen rubbed a soothing hand over his shoulders, "Nearly six hours, mate. Almost all night."

"Here…" a new voice joined theirs.

Stephen and Connor looked up to see the Asian woman, Mariko, holding out a bottle of water and two pills, still in their packets. Stephen took them hesitantly. He undid the water bottle, taking a quick sip himself, holding it in his mouth for a moment before swallowing. Then he inspected the pills, noting that the packets said paracetamol.

"It's not poisoned," Mariko said, one corner of her mouth tilting up, "And the pills are just painkillers," she nodded to Connor, "For his head."

Stephen's eyes narrowed slightly, but one look at Connor's pinched face, and he moved to take them, "Thanks," he said shortly.

He helped the younger man into a full sitting position, trying not to wince as Connor groaned pitifully and leaned against Stephen's chest. He let his eyes slip closed. Stephen nudged him gently until he opened his eyes, then pressed the pills against his lips. Connor frowned, then blinked, letting his lips part enough for Stephen to slide them into his mouth. He held the water up to Connor's lips next, a relieved smile crossing his face when Connor brought one of his own hands up to steady it.

"Give them a few minutes to kick in," Stephen said quietly, making no move to shift Connor off his chest.

Nick groaned, "Bloody hell…" he rolled onto his side.

"Nick?"

That was Stephen's voice…

"Stephen…? Where's Connor?"

"I'm here…"

The pained sound of Connor's voice made Nick crack open his eyes. He winced, taking Stephen's offered hand and slowly hauling himself up into a sitting position. He too leaned onto Stephen's shoulder with a pained grunt. Stephen blinked, looking a little shocked, but his face soon settled into a small smile. He picked up the water bottle and the pills again, pressing first pills then water into Nick's mouth.

"There…" Stephen rubbed Nick's left temple.

"Aww…" Mariko grinned at the trio.

Stephen shot her a scowl, and she held up her hands, "Hey… hey… I'm sorry. It wasn't me that hit you, though, remember that."

Connor cracked open an eye, "Yeah… what was up with that? I mean… pistol whippin' someone who's terrified isn't exactly karma."

Mariko glanced over her shoulder and sat down Indian-style near them, "To understand that you have to understand Spanner," she sighed and rubbed at her eyes, "Or at least try to."

"Spanner is…" Mariko rolled her hands, "…different."

"I'll say…" was muttered back collectively.

"How about, instead of insulting people, you explain how you got here?" a new voice joined them, making Mariko start, then blush furiously.

She coughed, shooting a glare at the smirking Connor, and hurried on, "Ianto Jones. The only one of us who isn't completely butt-humped by the existence of aliens."

Ianto snickered quietly, sitting down next to Mariko, knee bumping hers, "Butt-humped? That's a new one…" he turned to Nick, Stephen and Connor, "I worked for Torchwood."

"I told you!" Connor crowed triumphantly, then grabbed his head, "Ow."

"Wait… the existence of what?" Stephen stared at Ianto.

"Aliens," Ianto said matter-of-factly.

"Okay, now you're takin' the piss," Nick scowled.

Spanner snorted at them, "Yeah… coz we normally live in abandoned pubs with half the SAS armoury. Well done, wanker."

"Hey, wait a minute…" Nick cut in, before Stephen interrupted him.

"Alright, alright…" he held one hand up to stem the flow of conversation, "Aliens?" he waited til Ianto nodded, "Sorry… I'm afraid I'm going to need more than your word for it."

Ianto nodded again, as though expecting the answer, "Easy done, come with me," he got to his feet and waited for Stephen to get up and help the still-shaky Nick and Connor to their feet.

They followed Ianto out of the pub, standing under the awning, suspiciously eyeing the creaking sign only being held onto the pub's roof by three screws and a prayer. Ianto looked back at them, then glanced his eyes upwards, waiting for them to do the same. Nick, Stephen and Connor just looked at him. Ianto sighed, pointing at the sky.

"Look up."

The three men eyed him suspiciously for a moment. Connor was the first to cave and finally look up, squinting into the sky. Nick and Stephen sighed and followed suit. There was nothing there. They scowled as a collective, turning their heads back down and waiting for Ianto to smirk at them. Ianto simply held up one hand, appearing to listen to something, then pointed back to the sky.

"Now, look up."

With a resigned sigh, they looked up again. And as one, recoiled back further under the awning. Zipping through the sky, like a manic game of marbles, were metallic balls about the size of a human head.

Getting over his initial shock, Connor ventured back out, looking up at the sky once more, "Bloody hell…" he stared, "Bloody… hell…" then he grinned inexplicably and all but shouted, "Its bloody aliens!"


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Ianto's eyes widened and he all but yanked the grad student back under the awnings, herding all three men back into the pub, "Are you mad?!" he hissed, "Do you want them to find us?!"

Connor blinked as he was practically hauled back into the pub, "What…?"

But Ianto wouldn't say anything else, simply walking away and leaving the three men alternating between blinking at his retreating back and boggling at the thought that aliens may really exist. Shaking themselves out of their dazed states, they followed the Welshman back into the bar area. Mariko and Spanner shot them knowing looks, while Ianto refused to look at them. Connor, unsurprisingly, was the first to speak, poking Stephen in the side and bumping Nick with his hip.

"I told you aliens and Torchwood existed."

"We're in a parallel universe, Connor… It doesn't prove anything…" Nick blinked, then shook his head, "I can not believe I just said that."

That made Ianto's head snap up, "Parallel universe?" Ianto frowned, "You haven't broken any paradox protocols or anything, have you?"

"Oh God…" Stephen let his head flop into his hands, "Don't get him started on that."

"Hey…" Nick began, "Did I or did I not…"

Ianto looked between them, "Let me rephrase, did you break any paradox protocols coming here?"

Stephen and Nick exchanged looks, "No," they answered together.

"Good. That would be the last thing I need."

Connor tilted his head away from Stephen's shoulder, "What with the potential doppelgangers and all?"

"And the everyone trying to kill us lark," Mariko added dryly.

It went quiet for a while before Connor looked carefully at Ianto and asked, "Are… we being held hostage?"

Ianto blinked and said, "No."

Just as Spanner twirled a knife in her fingers and said, "Yes."

Just as Mariko raised an eyebrow and said, "Maybe."

Ianto gave both women a look and repeated, "No."

"Well…" Nick looked around, "That's somethin'."

Connor snorted at him, opening his mouth to keep talking, but was interrupted by the loud rumbling from both his and Spanner's stomachs. He looked down at it, curling one arm around it almost protectively. He glanced over and saw Spanner doing the same. The silence stretched out, only broken occasionally by the rumbling of his and Spanner's stomachs.

"Here," Ianto ducked behind the bar and lobbed packets of peanuts and crisps back at them, "It'll do until a decent meal hour."

"Cheers," Connor fumbled a bag of roast beef crisps then scooped them up off the floor.

Spanner snagged a bag of plain crisps and a bag of peanuts. She opened them both and began to eat the crisps, leaving the peanuts open by her feet. Connor, eating his own crisps, watched her curiously, and not a little warily. Spanner winked at him, popped a crisp into her mouth then reached for a peanut. Connor watched as she held the peanut carefully in one hand, then drew back her fist and sent it flying at Ianto's face, hitting him square in the forehead.

Ianto squawked indignantly and looked at her, "Are you still going into Cardiff today?" she asked him.

"Yes…" he drew out, still rubbing the place the peanut had hit.

"Good. You can buy me tampons."

Mariko hid a snicker under her hand. Connor choked on a crisp. Stephen and Nick winced sympathetically. Ianto cringed. Spanner looked around the suddenly silent pub with a raised eyebrow.

Connor broke the awkward silence by getting to his feet, "It's about that time, yeah? I'll cook something, does anyone want anything?" he frowned, "Wait… do we even have food?"

Ianto nodded, snorting quietly, "Yes, there's a kitchen at the back of the bar. And food does sound like a good idea," he got to his feet along with Connor.

"Cool, you can help me cook something then," Connor said cheerfully.

Stephen disentangled himself from Nick, quickly getting to his feet and heading Connor off, "Erm… no. I don't think we need any of your culinary delights right now, Connor."

"Hey…" Connor pouted.

"Sweet and sour sausages? Egg pizza? Steamed rice with BBQ sauce?" Stephen ticked off combinations of food that made everyone else in the room cringe.

"Well…" Connor looked suitably chastised.

"I'll help you in the kitchen," Stephen told Ianto with a charming grin.

He missed the way Mariko's face darkened as Ianto smiled back, nodding and motioning Stephen in front of him. Missed how Mariko slid to her feet, eyes narrowing to cat-like slits before she spoke to both men in a deceptively cheerful voice.

"You sit down too, Ianto, I've tasted your cooking."

"Hey…" it was Ianto's turn to pout.

"It's not… what was it, egg pizza? But it isn't pretty, either," she raised an eyebrow at him until he took a seat next to Spanner again.

"And you?" she pointed to Connor, "If you're even considering egg pizza… you can come too and learn how to cook properly," she waited til Connor had moved to stand with Stephen, before turning to Nick, "And if you don't want these two to question you til your ears bleed, I suggest you find an excuse to be in the kitchen as well."

Nick got to his feet and followed the others into the kitchen. He stood awkwardly by the door while Stephen and Mariko tried to organise some form of food and Connor tried not to get in the way. Eventually Stephen shooed Connor over into another corner, trying to ignore the slightly forlorn look on the younger man's face.

Mariko glanced at each of them as she pulled tins and utensils out of the cupboards. She sighed. This just wasn't right. Three new people added to their little band of heroes, and all they knew about them besides their names was that one was a major geek and one could claim the title 'Dr'. Even if she didn't trust anyone but Ianto and Spanner anymore, it still wasn't right to just… leave them. She dumped her armful onto the counter, looking over her shoulder at the trio.

All three started as she shot them a wide welcoming smile, "Hello."

"Erm… hi?" the geek… Connor… returned hesitantly.

She sighed again, "Look… I know we didn't exactly get off to the greatest of beginnings… but…" she gestured around her, "We're stuck here now, all of us."

"Are you trying to start some sort of trust exercise? Get us to open up… tell you about ourselves…" Nick looked sceptical.

Mariko looked a little hurt, "No. I just thought since we're the only thing keeping each other alive right now…" she shrugged, "Whatever…" and turned back to the counter, scooping up a peeler and one of the potatoes Stephen had found.

Nick winced, "I'm sorry… it's just… with the guns… and the reception…"

Stephen interrupted bluntly, "And the fact that neither the bloke nor the other woman would've bothered except for a trust exercise…"

"Hey!" Mariko lifted her head sharply, "You don't know either Spanner or Ianto. You don't know what they've been through, what any of us have been through…" she sighed again, rubbing a little at her eyes, "And this is exactly my point."

Connor nodded, "We don't know anything about each other."

Mariko waved a hand at him, "Exactly."

Stephen still looked mistrustful, "Is this some kind of bonding exercise then?"

"For God's sake!" Connor snorted, "It's not a bloody exercise! She's just curious."

"Thank you, Connor," Mariko saluted him with her potato peeler.

Nick and Stephen looked at each other, before Nick asked, "So… I suppose we get to ask questions as well?"

Mariko rubbed at her eyes again, "Sure, why not?"

Stephen nodded, "Can I go first?"

"Fire away."

"Spanner."

"What about her?" Mariko's eyes narrowed a little.

"The name, the attitude, the general psychosis…"

Mariko shot them a scowl, "Spanner. Sallyann Mitchell-Drayson. Mother of two, with a loving husband."

Stephen frowned, "What? That description doesn't really fit Spanner too well."

Mariko rubbed her temples with one knuckle and swiped a hand over her face, "That's because Sallyann Mitchell-Drayson doesn't exist anymore. She died. And became Spanner."

Connor slid a bit lower in his chair, "I'm not sure I want to know what happened."

Mariko shot him a wry, sad smile, "Trust me, you don't."

She sighed, "She had two sons, Paul and Andrew. Paul was three, still in a pusher. Andrew was six. She also had a husband, Mark, who was a mechanic. Mark, from what I've heard, was a bit of a geek, loved sci-fi and passed that love onto his boys," she didn't look up from the table, "So when the news of a peaceful alien communication came… Mark and Spanner took their boys to the Plass so they could see the whole thing. Something to tell their kids about, ya know?"

"She left the boys with Mark for a moment, to get them an ice-cream. The next time she saw them…" Mariko shook her head.

"The aliens had got them?" Nick looked sympathetic.

Mariko blanched, "Not… all of them."

Stephen frowned, "Who was left?" he shook his head, "It doesn't matter, either way it would have been horrible."

"Not who…" Mariko's voice got even quieter, "What…"

Nick stared, "You mean…? Jesus Christ…."

"Yeah…" Mariko rubbed at her eyes yet again and continued, trying and failing to keep her voice clinical, "Sallyann Mitchell-Drayson came back from the ice-cream van to see her husband spread across twenty feet of flagstones. Her six year old son's leg embedded in the back of the pusher. His head, half of it anyway, in her three year old son's lap. Her three year old son, still in his pusher, chest crushed and neck broken from pieces of flying shrapnel and bodies."

All three men collectively blanched.

Mariko allowed a tear to slide down her cheek, wiping it away before she continued, "Like I said, Sallyann Mitchell-Drayson died the day the Toclafane entered our airspace. Spanner is what's left," she tossed the peeled potato into the sink almost viciously, before picking up another and starting again.

"Jesus…" Stephen breathed, before falling silent.

The silence reigned for a while. A long while. Stephen began to wish that he'd never asked the question. He glanced up on occasion, but dropped his eyes again when he saw that Mariko, Connor and Nick were all keeping their eyes resolutely on their own work. He looked up once more, intent on breaking the silence, but caught Mariko's eyes instead. The corner of her mouth turned up.

"That was Spanner," she said suddenly into the silence, "Now, there's only Ianto and I left. So… I think… me first. Get it out the way," she sighed, gesturing to herself, "Mariko Katsukaro. Unmarried, very single, no kids. And I hate my contacts."

She dropped the second peeled potato into the sink and rinsed off her hands. Then she swiped at her eyes again, coming away squinting. She felt around her pockets, pulling out a glasses case and exchanging the contact lenses for a pair of glasses. Mariko blinked a few times behind her glasses, shooting the trio a wry smile as they all stared at her in surprise.

"I'm not all I appear either. I was a tax consultant before the world went to hell."

Mariko went quiet after that, scooping up another potato and her peeler to continue working. The three men looked between each other, then back at her, waiting for her to continue. But the petite woman never did. She just finished peeling that potato, grabbed another, and started from the top. Connor finally broke the silence.

"Is that it?" he asked incredulously.

"I'm sorry, what?" there was a dangerous gleam, almost hidden by her glasses, as Mariko looked up.

"You spill Spanner's deepest and darkest… But all you give us about you is 'I was a tax consultant'."

Mariko's face hardened, "Everyone I knew before this place went to hell is gone. Either dead, crazy or so changed that I don't know who they are anymore. I guess I'm the same," she let her shoulders slump and head droop, "I have no family. My friends… yeah… dead or crazy. Spanner and Ianto are all I have…" she finished softly, plaintively.

The kitchen went silent for a long time after Mariko's words. Mariko herself put her head back down and worked solidly and silently. Connor, Nick and Stephen stayed quiet, stunned into silence by the way the world had become in this strange version of their own country. It was only broken when Ianto stuck his head into the kitchen, scanning around until he found Mariko.

"Mariko?" he waited until the petite woman was looking at him, "Cardiff is still on for tomorrow. You know the plan. Get some sleep, alright?"

"Alright," Mariko nodded in return, offering Ianto a small smile.

Spanner stepped up behind him, "SUV's good to go," she said, her tone uncharacteristically serious, "You get some sleep too, Ianto."

Ianto nodded, gave Spanner a quick half-smile in thanks and took the keys she pressed into his hand. He looked over at the three other men in the room and frowned a little. Then he shook his head and sighed, nothing for it now. He slid the keys into his pocket, gently touched the gun on his hip, the knife at his back and slipped into the backroom of the pub, the one they used for sleeping quarters.

Mariko's eyes didn't leave him, until the door had closed softly behind him and the quiet sound of Ianto moving around in the room beyond had stopped. Spanner patted her shoulder awkwardly, pulled up a chair and drew her K-Bar knife. Mariko raised an eyebrow as she pulled a few potatoes towards her as well. With a longsuffering look, the Asian woman gestured to the spare potato peeler. Spanner looked at it, looked at her knife, made a soft sound in her throat, shrugged and pulled the peeler towards her as well.

Mariko peeled potatoes steadily, trying to keep the worry out of her face, focussing on her task. It wasn't until Spanner put a firm but gentle hand over hers that she stopped and looked up. And blinked. Then blushed. A pile of potatoes, almost too big for them to eat, lay in the sink.

"Try something else, now, 'kay?" Spanner said, a crooked smile crossing her face, "Like sleeping, perhaps?"

Mariko growled a response at her, but rinsed off her hands anyway. She pushed her glasses further up her nose and all but staggered off in the direction of the back room, where Ianto was already sleeping. Nick's eyebrows flew up into his hairline. He turned to look at Spanner, who shrugged and carried on peeling vegetables. Mariko stumbled through the door to Ianto's sleeping quarters, closing it behind her.

"Are they together?" Stephen asked bluntly.

"Not that it's your business, pretty boy, but no… they're not," Spanner glanced over at the closed door.

Connor tilted his head at the closed door, "They wish they were, though, don't they?"

Spanner glanced across at Connor, "Yeah."

"Huh…" was Connor's only response.

Spanner waited for more of a response, but when none was forthcoming, she rolled her eyes and gestured to the second door, "You three can have that room. Try and sleep as much as you can. The Toclafane make a good alarm clock."

Ianto cracked open an eye, sliding to his feet in the early dawn. He looked down at Mariko, still asleep, hair falling gently across her face, innocent in sleep. He couldn't help the soft smile that curled his lips as he pulled on his boots and quietly left.

Mariko stirred and woke nearly three hours later, shoving her hair away from her eyes irritably and fumbling her glasses onto her nose. She looked around the room, suddenly realising that it was empty. She sat up abruptly. Then swore. Ianto had already left. She hurried out of the room, struggling into her boots, just barely missing Spanner.

"Too late," Spanner said, "He's gone."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Any response Mariko could've made was cut off by the sound of a car pulling up outside the pub. Mariko's head snapped up and around. One hand curled around her Colt, flicking the safety off. Her eyes shot over to Spanner. The green-eyed woman nodded, sliding to her feet and scooping up her AK-47. They both swung round, guns pointed at the door as it banged open. Then Mariko and Spanner blinked, quickly lowering their weapons as Ianto stumbled back into the pub, blood seeping through his shirt.

"The fuck, Ianto?!" Mariko holstered her gun and rushed forward, Spanner not far behind.

"Cardiff's not safe anymore," Ianto grimaced as small hands wormed their way under his shirt, "Leave it, Mariko."

Spanner frowned, helping the Welshman over to a bench, "Whaddya mean?"

"The Hub's been compromised," Ianto said shortly, then hissed as Mariko gave up on trying to get under his shirt to get to the wound and simply ripped it instead.

Spanner scowled, hands clenching tighter on her AK-47, "What? How?"

Ianto scowled in response, "The Doctor," he raised one hand as Spanner opened her mouth to speak, "Not deliberately. He must've known something was coming, knew that Martha could do something about it when he couldn't. He left information for her in the Hub."

Mariko snorted, "Perfect. Our greatest cover op. Blown to fuck."

Ianto raised an eyebrow at her, face pale and drawn, but composed, "Eloquent. But true. Martha snuck in to collect whatever it was The Doctor had left for her. Got spotted on her way through the tourist centre. Tried to grab her, but she lost them in the Plass."

"Shit," Spanner growled, "So what do we do now?"

Ianto sighed, then hissed, making Mariko scowl up at him, "If I can get into the Hub one last time, steal a computer and a headset or three…" he trailed off.

Mariko nodded slowly, "T3 don't get suspicious. Evil asshats don't rule the world. I approve."

Ianto snorted with laughter, "So glad."

Mariko shot him a grin, then smacked the inside of his thigh, "Now stop moving. I can't see what I'm doing."

Ianto watched the top of Mariko's head with a fond smile as she bent over the wound in his side. Then a frown abruptly creased his brow and he turned away. Spanner rolled her eyes at him, making Ianto's frown even deeper. Spanner nodded over to the other side of the pub. Ianto's eyes narrowed slightly, then he slowly turned his head, catching sight of Nick, Stephen and Connor.

"Okay…" Stephen held up a hand, "One. What's the Hub?"

Ianto sighed, then grimaced, "Torchwood headquarters in Cardiff."

Stephen nodded, "Right. Two. Who's the Doctor?"

Ianto twitched away from Mariko's questing hands and winced as he spoke, "Another alien, one who's actually trying to help us."

"Okay…" that word was drawn out, before Stephen spoke again, "And last one. Who's Martha?"

Spanner cut in gleefully, "The Doctor's ho!"

"Spanner!" Mariko and Ianto snapped at the same time, before Ianto continued, "The Doctor's companion. Human woman who travels with him."

"Right…" Stephen nodded slowly, obviously trying very hard to process all this information at once.

Ianto, Mariko and Spanner watched Stephen, but it was Nick who spoke, " So… You're plannin' on goin' back into the place where you just got shot…"

"It was just a graze," Ianto interrupted defensively.

"Still got shot, sunshine," Mariko gave him another smack on the thigh, "Hold still, damn it!"

"And let the man continue," Spanner added.

Nick nodded his thanks, "You're plannin' on goin' back to where you just got shot… for a computer and a headset?"

Ianto nodded, "Only those in the Hub are tuned in to Torchwood frequencies."

Connor looked down, "You said before… the Tourist Centre was a cover op for the Hub…" he was obviously thinking out loud.

Ianto nodded again, "Yes, but if The Doctor is Public Enemy Number One and Martha is Public Enemy Number Two… and they end up in Torchwood Three's Hub…"

"Yeah," Connor drew out, "But look at yourselves… all three of you… no offence… but back home… if I saw you coming, I'd cross the street to get away."

Spanner grinned at that, inordinately pleased.

"What's your point, Connor?" Ianto's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Well, if you've already been had… and… Mariko and Spanner can't go anywhere without attracting attention…" he tilted his head, still thinking out loud, "Tourist Centre…" he mused.

"Connor…" Stephen said softly.

Connor blinked and shook himself, "Okay. Obviously, we can't send you," he pointed to Ianto, "Because you're hurt and because the baddies generally hate your guts and want to kill you."

"Poor Ianto," Mariko smirked at him as she pressed gauze over the wound in his side.

"We can't send you," Connor shifted his pointing finger down to Mariko, "Because you go everywhere with so many guns it's no wonder you're only 4'9. The weight drags you down."

"I'm 5'1, thank you very much," Mariko scowled.

"Poor Mariko," Ianto laughed down at her, smiling.

"And we can't send you," Connor transferred his gaze over to Spanner.

A raised eyebrow was his only response. Spanner looked over at Nick and Stephen, hoping to find an answer there. No such luck. The two men looked just as lost as she felt. The redhead sighed and flipped her braid over her shoulder, looking back at Connor. She folded her long legs underneath her and waved a hand.

"And why, pray tell, am I to be left out of this hayride?"

"Well, you're the token female," Connor replied as though the answer were obvious.

"I'm the what?" Spanner's voice was low and deadly.

Mariko stopped fussing over Ianto's wound for a moment to watch the exchange. Ianto resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands. Stephen and Nick stood up, trying to take a step towards Connor without attracting the attention of the gun-toting Spanner.

"Mmhmm," Connor carried on obliviously, "If we send you then we run the risk of you getting hurt. And the token female can't get hurt until the final battle, they are too fundamentally useful to the team."

Mariko raised an eyebrow at Spanner, "As garbled as it is, he does have a point, Spanner. Not a damn one of us can get that shit-heap," she gestured vaguely at the SUV, "To go after we've tanked it so many times."

Spanner nodded slowly, braid swinging back and forth between her shoulder-blades, eyes still narrowed, "We need someone to go. Who do you suggest?"

Connor blinked, "Um… us."

Spanner frowned, "Only one of you knows how to use a gun with any kind of confidence!"

Connor nodded emphatically, "Yes… exactly!"

Mariko blinked, "And… lost."

Connor's eyes were wide and earnest as he spoke, "How many tourists do you know that can blow holes in foreheads from seven hundred yards?"

Ianto smiled abruptly, "Tourists who got stuck in Cardiff when the world started to end…"

Connor nodded along with Ianto, looking a little sheepish when the Welshman asked, "Where did you learn that?"

"Erm…" Connor blushed a little, looking away from Spanner and Mariko, "Unreal Tournament…"

"Unreal Tournament…" Mariko raised an eyebrow.

Spanner went off into gales of laughter, "Unreal Tournament! I love it! Can I keep him?"

Connor looked slightly alarmed at that and took a half step back. Ianto saw the move and snickered slightly, wincing as Mariko smacked his leg again and berated him for shifting, gauze square held firmly in her other hand. Ianto frowned at the top of the petite woman's head for a moment, then sighed and turned back to Connor.

"As garbled as it was, it does seem to make sense," he allowed, "I don't really feel up to running for my life again. And we can't afford to lose Spanner's technical knowledge…" he glanced down at Mariko, flicking his eyes back up and away when he saw the Asian woman looking back up at him, "And we can't afford to lose Mariko either," he coughed, fighting a blush.

"Wait a bloody minute here…" Nick's heavily accented voice cut into the conversation, "You're talkin' about sendin' us into a hostile situation… unarmed…"

Spanner interrupted him, "Maybe a little bit armed…" she didn't bother looking at him, her attention occupied by sniggering at the heavy blush that crossed Ianto's face as Mariko settled herself between his thighs, eyes narrowed in concentration while she pressed the gauze into place over his wound.

"No," Mariko said from somewhere near Ianto's left nipple, "No guns. Guns will tie them back to us. If they get caught, they need to look like schmucks caught in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Connor blinked at her, "We are schmucks caught in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Mariko looked over her shoulder at him, the one visible brown eye looking very amused, "That's the spirit. Method acting!"

That comment earned a snort from Stephen, who turned to Ianto, "What exactly are we stealing? Where are we stealing it from? And… more to the point… why the hell should we?"

Ianto raised an eyebrow at Stephen's words. Mariko paused in her ministrations, pressing one last time on the square of gauze before turning and looking at Stephen. Spanner let out a sound remarkably like a growl. Connor stepped a little closer to Nick. Nick let him. Stephen, however, stood his ground, staring the militia leader down.

Ianto winced slightly as he shifted, "Fair questions, I suppose. For your first question… You'll be stealing a laptop, two mobile phones and as many headsets as you can find. The second… You're stealing it from the Hub. Torchwood Three's headquarters, located inside the Tourist Centre of the Roald Dahl Plass. And your final question…" he tilted his head at Stephen, "Have you met any others here? Do you think they'd be willing to do anything other than shoot you on sight? Or enslave you?"

Stephen nodded slowly, "Alright then…" he added dryly, "So what are we expecting from the Hub? I'm assuming this is a little more complex than a smash 'n' grab or a ladder against the back fence."

Ianto nodded, smiling wryly, "Just a little."

Stephen wandered past Spanner and pulled out a chair, straddling it easily, resting his chin on the back, "So… are we talking lockpicks and motion sensors?"

"Yes," Ianto scooted over on his bench, wincing as he did so, allowing Mariko to sit down next to him, "And metal detectors, heat detectors, DNA identification, retinal scanners…"

Stephen lifted his head from the back of the chair, "You're bloody kidding me."

"The heat and metal detectors have been shut off," Ianto admitted, "But you will still need to get through the DNA identification and retinal scanning."

"We're not bloody Charlie's Angels, mate!" Connor interjected looking stunned.

Stephen snorted, but agreed, "He's right. The only way we can get through those is with you and since the whole point is you not going…" his eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

"Stephen…" Nick said warningly, "What are you thinking?"

Stephen ignored him, turning to Ianto, "What happens when the alarms go off?"

"You've got three minutes before the entire Hub goes into total lock… down…" Ianto eyed Stephen warily, "You're not…"

Nick buried his face in his hands, "He is."

"He's not what?" Connor looked understandably worried.

Mariko's eyes widened a little, "Ballsy…" she exchanged a look with Spanner.

Spanner looked back over at Stephen, "Oh, no way… he's not…" she looked back at Mariko.

"He's not what?!" Connor's voice went an octave higher.

Nick sighed, placing a falsely soothing hand on Connor's shoulder, "We're goin' down to this Hub place. And we're goin' to set off the alarms on purpose."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"Oh we're not…"

Stephen turned back to Ianto, leaving the girls to watch Connor, "Three minutes, you say?"

Ianto nodded, "Three minutes. Then everything shuts up tighter than a…" obviously fighting the presence of Spanner, Ianto gritted his teeth, stopping the obscenity before it went any further, "Then it goes into complete lockdown. Nothing in or out."

"And you want a laptop, two mobiles and some headsets?"

"Grab some milk and a paper while you're out, love," Mariko drawled sardonically, obviously disbelieving of their ability to get to the Hub and get the items needed.

"Play nice, Mariko," Ianto patted her absently on the leg, making her blush, his attention focused on Stephen, "A laptop, two mobiles and some headsets," he confirmed.

Spanner simply cackled at Mariko's flaming face. She was rewarded with a two fingered salute, but ignored it completely. She waited until Mariko had glanced at her out the corner of her eye, and made a kissy face, complete with tongue. Mariko's eyes narrowed and she opened her mouth to speak.

"… don't you think, ladies?"

Both women jumped, neither looked guilty, "Say what?"

Ianto rolled his eyes at them both, "We can lend them the older of the two SUV's. No guns. They have eight hours to complete their task before we go back for the car."

Mariko shrugged, "Sounds alright to me. Spanner?"

Spanner frowned, "The radiator on that thing is monkey's balls. You'll either have to give me three hours to fix it or pack them off with the new one."

Ianto thought about that, "Fix it," he said at last, "It would make no sense for people to be in the Plass before about 9.30 in the morning anyway."

Spanner nodded and stood up, swinging her braid over her shoulder. She walked over to the bar, sidling behind it and ducking down out of sight. Rustling, clanging and cursing was heard for a few moments before Spanner's red-braided head popped back up over the bar. She sidled her way back out from behind the bar, her arms full. A toolbox was tucked under one arm, a torch in the corresponding hand. A bottle of coolant and a smaller toolbox were tucked under the other arm. Inexplicably, Spanner held a bottle of vodka in her other hand. Nick eyed the vodka bottle warily.

"She's not going to drink it, if that's what you're thinking," Mariko leaned past Ianto to tell him.

Nick blinked, "Then what…?"

Ianto shrugged, "We have no idea…" all heads turned to watch Spanner kick the SUV a few times, "She does something to the cars with it. And they run."

Nick blinked again, "Well alright…"

"You miserable ratbastard!" was followed by a harsh clank as Spanner brought her namesake down hard onto some part of the engine.

Connor looked past Nick's shoulder at Spanner. The redheaded mechanic was head down, bum up in the engine of the SUV. Connor absently thought that some part of his mind should be appreciating Spanner's bum. But it wasn't. He mentally shrugged at that and carried on watching.

A little over three hours later, Spanner gave the SUV one last thump and curse. She closed the hood and poured what was left of the bottle of vodka over the grille, almost like an offering to the car. She pulled the keys out of her pocket and slid behind the wheel of the car. The SUV started with a growling rumble. A self-satisfied smile crossed Spanner's face as she revved the car a few times, then turned the engine off.

Climbing out of the SUV, she walked back to the group. Sidling behind the bar again, she washed the grime off her hands and the keys. Satisfied she was clean, Spanner came back around the bar and dropped back into her chair, lobbing the keys through the air to Stephen as she did so.

"Your head on the chopping block now," she told him cheerfully.

"Thanks," Stephen returned dryly.

He tossed the keys to Nick, who was still standing close to Connor. Nick caught them easily, patting Connor on the shoulder and tugging on his jacket as he started towards the SUV. Connor paled a little, but followed Nick and Stephen out the door to the SUV. He scooted into the backseat, pulling on his seatbelt. Nick slid into the driver's seat, Stephen into the passenger seat.

"So… what's this psychotic plan you've got us carryin' out here, Stephen?" Nick asked, almost conversationally.

"We have three minutes before we get locked inside. We need three things. Laptop, mobiles, headsets," Stephen glanced across at Nick then let his eyes travel up to meet Connor's in the rearview mirror.

"Are you thinking of divvying them up between the three of us?" Nick took his eyes of the road for a moment, flitting them across to Stephen.

"No…" Stephen shook his head, "Only Connor and I are going in."

"What?!" Connor yelped from the backseat.

"Hey now… What am I supposed to do then?" Nick frowned as he drove, sticking to the speed limit despite the fact that they were the only people on the road.

"You're our lookout and getaway driver," Stephen told him calmly, "Connor and I will need someone to watch out for us while we break into the Tourist Centre and then the Hub."

Nick scowled, "That's just a nice way of sayin' 'stay in the car, Professor, there's a good lad'."

"Well, since you put it that way…" Stephen replied blandly.

"Stephen…"

"Nick…"

"Guys…" Connor pointed to the Tourist Centre, "Door's open."

The two stopped arguing with each other and looked at the Tourist Centre. Sure enough, all the doors were ajar. The three men exchanged looks. Then they all looked back at the open doors of the Tourist Centre.

Stephen looked a little wary, "It's not gonna be that easy, is it?" then he shook himself and patted Connor on the shoulder, "Come on."

Nick frowned, still put out at being told to wait in the car, "Be careful."

He watched with trepidation as Connor and Stephen walked, with false casualness, across the courtyard. He almost held his breath as he watched them walk into the Tourist Centre, Stephen with a typically tourist backpack on, Connor with his normal satchel slung over his shoulder. He kept his fingers crossed and his eyes fixed on the doors.

He swore in surprise and started in his seat, when, only seconds after they had ducked through the doors, they ducked back out again, bags bulging. Both men looked decidedly unimpressed. What…? Nick frowned, utterly bewildered. Stephen and Connor walked back over to the SUV and got back in, dumping their bags into the backseat, looking utterly disgruntled.

"We just walked on in," Stephen groused.

"Stupid… I bet he's havin' a great laugh at us… Bloody retinal scanning and motion detectors…" Nick grumbled to himself.

He put the car in gear and drove away, finding the road that lead out of Cardiff and back to the pub with little to no mishaps. They hadn't gone far out of Cardiff when the sound of another car caught their attention.

"Bloody hell, what now?" Nick sighed, looking up into the rear view mirror, "Only car I've seen on the bloody road all day and it's a bloody cop car. Christ."

"Keep driving…" Connor said abruptly, irrationally.

Both turned to look at him, "Are you mad? Really?" Stephen shook his head.

Connor fidgeted uneasily as Nick pulled the SUV over to the side of the road. He watched in the side mirror as the police car did the same. He watched, uneasiness inexplicably growing as the policeman got out of his car and headed towards them. Connor just couldn't explain it. He'd been brought up in the 90's, stranger-danger, policemen are your friend and all that.

"I really think we should just keep going," he said.

"For God's sake, Connor…" Nick shook his head at him before turning to the policeman now by his window, "Is there a problem, Officer?"

"Go…" Connor hissed through gritted teeth, quietly enough that the policeman didn't here, "Just go…"

The policeman remained silent, prompting Nick to frown and say, "Officer?"

The policeman bent down, making Nick recoil with a yelped curse and wide eyes. Blinking robotically on top of the policeman's body, mechanical noises muffled by the uniform, was a child's head. A little girl's, about six. The head blinked, staring vacantly at Nick.

"You need to come with me, now."

"Oh… my… God…"

"Drive, Cutter!"

And Nick floored it.

They were still shaking, still shivering, when they screeched to a halt outside the pub. Nick's hands clenched on the steering wheel, eyes wide, staring straight ahead. Stephen kept hold of his seatbelt, eyes blinking slowly on occasion, mouth moving in a steady litany of 'oh my God'. Connor was the only one who moved, flinging open the door and throwing himself out of the car, tangling in the seatbelt as he did so. He unceremoniously flopped belly first onto the ground, winding himself, but not enough to prevent the gasping heaves and the sudden retches that followed.

Connor let himself roll onto his back, kicking his seatbelt free and shuddering, "It was… Jesus… Christ… the hell was that?!"

Spanner, Mariko and Ianto had rushed to the door of the pub at the sound of the SUV screeching to a halt. Guns drawn they all stopped in the doorway. They shook their heads, watching the new people react. Ianto was the first to re-holster his gun. He was followed closely by Mariko, then Spanner. Standing, leaning in the doorway, they watched.

Nick rested his head on the steering wheel, not unclenching his hands, "It… a bloody kid… a little girl… what the hell is goin' on?"

Stephen just gritted his teeth, panting into a hand and staying quiet, trying desperately not to vomit in the SUV.

"They've seen the Toclafane," Ianto said quietly.

Spanner just walked away. Mariko's eyes followed her, before turning back to Connor, Nick and Stephen. She pushed her glasses up her nose and sighed softly, turning back into the pub.

"Poor bastards, there was hope for them, until now."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Their training started the next day. The Toclafane wouldn't wait, wouldn't stop simply because you were one of the very few people who could plead ignorance of their horror. They'd simply kill you anyway, probably with a bigger smile twisting the dead masks they stole from the corpses of Cardiff. Mariko, Ianto and Spanner knew this. And so they made sure that Nick, Stephen and Connor were ready.

Mariko tilted her head as she watched Stephen bend slightly to pull a gun out of the back of the SUV, "I'd hit that."

Spanner raised an eyebrow, "You'll rip the pants off anything that's pretty enough."

"With a dick," Mariko agreed, making Connor turn around and stare at her disbelievingly.

Spanner rolled her eyes, "With a dick," she clarified, then turned back to their SUV and pulled out a pair of rifles, walking over to where Connor and Nick were standing nervously, "One each, Happy Birthday, Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, and all those other goodbye things," she said, handing the rifles over.

Nick blinked at each woman in turn, "I… thanks?" he looked over at Stephen hesitantly.

Connor just stared at the rifle he was now holding awkwardly in his hands, "What in the bloody hell am I supposed to do with this?"

Mariko grinned mirthlessly at him, "Kill them, 'fore they kill you."

Stephen raised an eyebrow, "Who? Who are we fighting? Why are we fighting? I mean, that cop… thing…" he shuddered at the memory.

Nick rested the rifle against his thigh, "And what in the name of everythin' holy happened to Cardiff?"

Mariko stared, "Where in the blue brass fuck have you been? You… honestly don't know?"

Spanner cut in, "Harold Saxon… PM's really an alien… led an invasion to take over the world with little, vicious, metal ball-type things called the Toclafane?" she looked at Nick, Stephen and Connor, all of whom were blinking at her in shock, "National TV… US Prez was assassinated… chopped into bitty-bits? Registering? Yes? No…" she slumped slightly as all three men stared at her in stunned disbelief.

Nick managed to choke out, "The PM's name is Gordon Brown. And I seriously doubt he's an alien."

"Debatable," Connor muttered.

Stephen scowled at him before continuing, "There's been no invasion of aliens, especially on National TV, I think I would remember. And the US President is alive and well."

"Pity," Connor muttered again, earning himself a dig in the ribs from Stephen and a slightly manic grin from Spanner.

Mariko raised an eyebrow, "Well… maybe on the other side of the gold shimmery thingy you boys came from, that's the case. But here…" she shook her head, "We need to teach you boys how to shoot," Mariko hefted her own rifle and nudged her way between Stephen and Nick.

Nick blinked, "So… this alien invasion thing… it did all this? It's turned Britain into a… warzone?"

Mariko nodded and sighed, "Not just Britain… the Toclafane are worldwide. Saxon wants the world and the people in it. And he'll destroy the population so he can have it."

Connor was pale, "Bloody hell…"

Mariko shrugged, "Not exactly like home, is it? Tiny bit different, here."

"Here… it's all about the sound of drums," Spanner cut in cryptically, before breaking into song, "Here come the drums, here come the drums…"

Even as Mariko blanched and glared furiously at her, Spanner kept singing, "Baby, baby, baby… You are my voodoo child, my voodoo child…"

"Spanner!" she eventually snapped, "Don't…"

Spanner flipped her braid over her shoulder, hefted her gun onto her shoulder and moved up beside her, "My bad."

Mariko shook her head and sighed, "Let's just do this, okay?"

"Right then," Spanner held up her rifle, "My gun. Touch it and die," she practically crooned as she ran her hand lovingly over the barrel, "Enfield L42A1 'Enforcer' military sniper rifle."

She pointed to the guns each man, and Mariko, was holding, "Your guns. Lee-Enfield MK2. Military surplus, easy to use, low recoil."

Mariko took over, motioning Spanner back, "You load them like this," she held up her own gun and slowly went through the motions.

Stephen, unsurprisingly, got it easily. He watched Mariko's first demonstration, then took one of the magazines, and, with minimal fuss, slid it home. Mariko nodded approvingly. Then she leaned over, threw the slide, and shucked the magazine. Stephen swore as it hit him in the foot.

"Again," she said calmly, before moving back to Connor and Nick.

Nick was the next to get it. He watched Mariko intently, then fumbled his way through his first three attempts. He grumbled to himself, accent getting thicker as he did. Mariko snickered at him, and ran through the motions once more. This time, working slowly and awkwardly, Nick slid the magazine home. After seeing Mariko with Stephen, he was prepared when the Asian woman then leaned over and shucked it again almost immediately.

"Again," she told him, moving over to Connor.

Connor hadn't moved. He just stood, looking uncertainly at the gun in his hands. He held it gingerly, almost as though he was scared it would bite him. He narrowed his eyes at the gun, then he looked from the gun over to Mariko. Mariko simply raised an eyebrow at him. She tossed him a magazine, which Connor fumbled and dropped. He left it on the ground. Mariko frowned slightly, then gestured first to the magazine on the ground, then to the gun in his hand.

"You gonna pick that up?" Mariko leaned her own gun nonchalantly against her hip, "Makes it awful difficult to fire a gun without bullets."

"Guns don't kill people, people kill people!" Spanner chimed in, rather unhelpfully, before adding, also unhelpfully, "Though a big honking gun really helps."

Connor looked at Spanner in horror, then back at Mariko, already pale skin a shade lighter, "But I… I don't… killing people?" he stammered.

Mariko's face softened a little, "It's not a nice thought, is it?" she sighed, "But the alternative is even less nice," she took a couple of steps forward, bent down and scooped up the magazine, pressing it into Connor's hand.

Connor was still looking at Mariko's hand covering the magazine in his own, "Alternative?"

He missed the nod the Asian woman gave over the top of his head to Spanner. Mariko stepped away, moving over to Stephen and Nick. Stephen watched Connor with a sympathetic gaze, as did Nick. The two men's eyes widening was the only warning Connor had. The cold metal of a gun barrel was pressed against his cheek and the back of his neck. Connor felt a hard pressure against the small of his back and trembled.

"Oh God…" the words were almost soundless.

"This is the alternative! This is the motherfucking alternative!" the gun barrels were pressed harder, "What are you going to do? Huh? Huh?"

"Oh God…"

"OhGodohGodohGod. That all you got?" the pressure on the small of Connor's back was almost painful now, "You're a dead little pansy boy now," the word 'dead' was drawn out long and slow.

"Damn it, woman! Let me go!" Connor barely registered Nick's heavily accented yells.

"Connor! Jesus… Connor!" nor did he register Stephen's frantic cries.

"Stop it!" he finally screamed, driving the barrel of his rifle backwards and feeling a vicious satisfaction in the pained grunt it received.

He stumbled away, turning and pulling the inexplicably loaded rifle up to his shoulder and pointing in the direction of the grunt. Harsh almost-sobs forced their way out of his throat as he held the gun pointed straight at Spanner. Spanner kept a pair of Berettas pointed straight at Connor's head. One combat-booted foot was planted heavily, while the other rested lightly on the ground.

In some detached part of Connor's mind, he noted that the capped toe of Spanner's boot was probably what was pressing into his back. Connor kept the rifle pointed awkwardly, yet accurately, at Spanner's chest. The two faced each other off. Spanner's eyes glittering and deadly, her hands steady, a small smile curling her mouth. Connor's eyes wide and panicked, hands gripping the MK2 so they didn't shake, harsh and strangled sounds forcing their way up and out of his chest.

"That's enough, Spanner," Mariko's voice cut through the tense silence.

"I think he's broken one of my ribs," Spanner didn't move.

"I said, that's enough, Spanner," the Asian woman's voice held a note of warning.

Spanner narrowed her eyes slightly, then put up her guns, "You did good, 'specially under pressure," she told Connor, before turning to Mariko, "That one's mine."

Mariko's eyebrows shot up into her hairline, "Excuse me?"

"You heard, I'll make a sniper outta that boy yet," Spanner turned back to Connor and walked forward until the gun barrel was nestled between her breasts, "You gonna pull that trigger or just finger it?"

Connor blinked at her, then slowly lowered the MK2, "I… sniper?" he looked vaguely ill, "I don't…"

Some of the cheerfully manic gleam faded from Spanner's eyes, "You will. When it all goes arse up in a teakettle, you will."

Connor's face set obstinately, but Spanner leaned forward, "What about when the bullets start flying? Hmm?" she said too quietly for anyone but Connor to hear, "When the bullets are whizzing past my head, your head…" her green eyes flicked away to Nick and Stephen, "Their heads?"

Connor followed Spanner's eyes to where Nick and Stephen were arguing in hissed whispers with Mariko, "But… Stephen… he can…" he started uncertainly.

Spanner nodded, "Yeah, he's not too bad…" she allowed, "But can he protect himself… and Nick… and you… and run for his life… all at the same time?"

Connor shook his head, shoulders slumping in defeat, "No."

Spanner took a half-step back, prompting Connor to look down at the rifle he still held in his hands, "I… alright…" he sighed, "Teach me."

Spanner shot him a bright smile and smacked him playfully on the arm, "Nice one…" she wandered back over to the SUV and scooped up her Enforcer again, "You won't regret it," she called over her shoulder, braid swinging across her back.

Connor scowled down at the gun in his hands, "I already am!" he yelled back, making Spanner laugh.

He was caught off-guard by Stephen and Nick rushing up to him, "Connor!"

He twitched slightly, fingers clenching around the barrel of the gun. Connor looked down at it with a kind of detached curiosity, nodding and shaking his head appropriately to Nick and Stephen's concerned questions. He took a breath and swallowed hard. Then he looked up, meeting their eyes. Stephen's were curious, Nick's were stunned. But, Connor noted, with some slight confusion, that both men's eyes looked slightly sad.

"What?" he said, looking between Nick and Stephen, gun still cradled in his arms.

Nick looked away first, "Nothin'… it's nothin'," he said.

Connor frowned, looking a little hurt, "Stephen?"

"Nothing, Connor… It's fine," Stephen gave him a wan smile.

Connor's hurt frown deepened, "But…" then he shook his head, letting his hair flop into his eyes, "Alright."

Spanner leant against the range target, watching the whole scene. Mariko came and stood by her, rifle barrel nestled between her feet. The two women watched the three newcomers in silence for a while. After five minutes or more, Mariko turned to Spanner. She watched the braided woman for a moment, studying her face.

"Are you sure, Spanner?" Mariko nodded at Connor, who was still looking bewildered at Stephen and Nick's slightly cool treatment of him.

Spanner nodded, "He doesn't freeze under pressure. And not only that, he reacts and reacts well."

"Yeah…" Mariko still sounded doubtful.

"Desserts for a year," Spanner looked at her out the corner of her eye, betting the one thing of worth they had.

"A month."

"Six months."

"Three."

"Done," the two women shook on it, still watching Connor.

"Boy!" Spanner bawled across the range, "Get your skinny arse over here!"

"Moving quickly, aren't you?" Mariko snickered, stepping aside so Spanner had the range.

Connor twitched and spun, instinctively clutching the rifle tighter to his chest, "What?"

"You heard! Shift your skinny arse!"


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Connor blinked, then hesitantly began to make his way towards Spanner and Mariko. Mariko gave him a small smile as he walked past, making her own way towards Stephen and Nick. Connor quickly flicked his gaze in the direction of the last shred of hope he had, walking slowly away with Mariko. He turned to look back at Spanner, who was watching him thoughtfully.

"That ship has sailed and sunk and is rusting like the Titanic, mate," Spanner patted his shoulder awkwardly, "She don't look at anyone that isn't Ianto anymore."

"What? Oh… oh no… I wasn't… I don't even like…" Connor's eyes widened and he clamped his mouth shut.

Spanner tilted her head, nodding slowly, "Ah… so… protecting Nick and/or Stephen is more than just 'let's all make it back alive', am I right?"

Connor tried and failed to glare her into silence, "Yeah."

"Which one?"

Connor stayed quiet.

"Is it Nick? The whole older man thing? Or the accent?"

Connor twitched slightly, but stayed silent.

"Is it Stephen then? He is incredibly pretty. And you could eat off that chest."

Connor's mouth thinned into a hard line.

"Oh…" Spanner nodded, "I understand."

Connor looked at her through his hair.

"First magazine in the chamber, boy. We're going shooting."

"Shooting what?" Connor looked at her suspiciously.

"Range targets," Spanner looked at him like he was the slightly mad one, "What did you think we were shooting?"

Connor just snorted and followed her. Spanner led the way, whistling what Connor was disturbingly sure was the pygmy song from the old 'Merrie Melodies' cartoons. He raised an incredulous eyebrow at her back and shook his head, Lee-Enfield MK2 still clutched to his chest. Spanner stopped suddenly, canting one hip and holding up a hand. She turned to Connor and gestured to the rifle in his hand.

"What?" Connor looked at her, absently pulling the rifle closer to his chest.

"Give it," Spanner tugged the rifle out of his hands, "You get to play with shinier toys than the other boys do."

She tucked the Lee-Enfield MK2 over one shoulder and walked away again, leaving Connor feeling strangely bereft and still utterly disturbed as she began humming the pygmy song once more. Spanner carried on walking, Connor following behind, until she got to the makeshift range. Spanner stopped, crouching down and pulling out two boxes. One, she put the MK2 in. The other, she flipped open, stood up and stepped back, gesturing to Connor.

"That's yours now," she said, pointing to the gun in the box.

Connor looked at it, then at her, "Okay…"

Spanner waited, obviously expecting more of an answer, before sighing and continuing, "Dragunov Sniper Rifle. Purpose-built, military precision, marksman's rifle. Sexy beast of a thing."

Connor took it out of the box, holding it awkwardly in his hands, hefting it up into the crook of his arm as it grew heavy. He sighed, trying hard to listen and understand as Spanner described the intricacies of the rifle and how to use it. He fumbled the magazine she handed him, swearing under his breath as it took him four tries before he finally slid the damn thing home.

He sighed, looking through his hair at Spanner, "I'm never gonna get this."

But war makes for a harsh teacher. And Connor came to the abrupt realisation that if he didn't learn quickly, chances were, he was going to die quickly. And so was Nick, so was Stephen. So Connor trained, as much as it pained him to, listening and learning, sliding magazine after magazine home into the Dragunov before raising it to his shoulder and firing it into the target.

Connor lay down on his stomach on the muddy ground, one knee pulled up to his side. Mariko and Spanner watched from the sidelines. Nick and Stephen watched from behind the two women. His Lee-Enfield MK2 was held steady at the target. He sighted down the barrel of the gun, staring through the scope. Connor's heart thumped in his chest, even though he tried to calm it. He took deep, steadying breaths.

"Fire when ready," Spanner called, in the calmest voice Nick and Stephen had ever heard her use.

Connor didn't respond, didn't move. He simply stayed where he was. He flicked off the safety and slowly curled his finger around the trigger. Nick frowned a little as he saw Connor's lips start to move silently.

_Fire, fire, fire…_

Nick was watching Connor's mouth so intently that he almost leapt out of his skin when the gun went off. He blinked, still staring at Connor's mouth. Connor himself remained perfectly still, but his lips kept moving silently.

_Hit. Fire, fire, fire…_

Spanner held a pair of binoculars up to her eyes. A grin blossomed underneath them. She passed them off to Mariko. Mariko held the binoculars up to her own eyes. Her mouth screwed up. She passed them back to Spanner with a sigh and a frown.

"Alright," she said, "You win. The boy's a sniper."

Spanner let out a slightly manic laugh, "Hell yes, motherfucker! Dessert is mine!"

Mariko rolled her eyes and turned to look at Connor, who'd stopped firing and rolled onto his side to look at them, "Good shooting," she said grudgingly, "Spanner's a decent teacher."

Connor grinned up at her, "Thanks."

Mariko turned to walk away, "And get up from the damn floor," she threw over her shoulder, "You look like a spread from a kink magazine."

Spanner gave Connor a once-over, "I dunno," she called to Mariko's retreating back, "I'd hit that."

Mariko snorted, turning back to look at Spanner, "You'd be a cradle robber if you did," she waved a hand at Connor, who was blushing to the roots of his hair, "He can't be a day over twenty-five."

Spanner shrugged and grinned lustily, "Then I'd definitely rob that cradle."

Connor founding himself musing on that, his training, Spanner, and the person he used to be as he lay flat on his belly, one knee pulled up to the side, much as he had done that day on the range. Still musing, he worked quickly to fit together the pieces of his Dragunov. Then he pulled the gun up to his shoulder, placed his eye at the scope, tapped his earpiece to start it working and waited.

"Do we need to go over the plan once more?" Ianto's voice crackled over Connor's earpiece.

"For the love of Christ, no!" Connor smirked as Spanner hurled back her answer.

"I'm inclined to agree, Ianto, we know this plan inside out and upside down," Nick's accented tones cut through next.

"Alright then. You know your jobs. Get to it. Mariko, you're up."

Connor lay flat and still against the rooftop, resisting the urge to use his scope to follow Mariko's progress through the backstreets. She knew her job. He knew his. He kept his breathing as steady as he could, even though he was nervous. Connor slowly moved his rifle across the rooftop, scanning through the scope for his target, a security guard that would impede Stephen's progress after Mariko had completed the first phase.

"Target acquired," Spanner's all-business tone came over his earpiece.

"Standby," Ianto's followed it.

There…

Connor sighted the man. He loosened up his shoulders and held himself with an almost unnatural stillness. The security guard remained in his position. As he should. He breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth, curling one finger lightly around the trigger.

"Target acquired," he said into his mike.

"Standby," Ianto replied again.

Connor waited, hearing Mariko's voice over his earpiece, "Phase one, complete."

Ianto replied with, "Stephen, you're up."

Connor tensed a little at that, before forcing himself to relax. Tense shoulders meant wild shots. Wild shots meant taking more than one to eliminate a target. He blinked slowly, eyes never leaving the scope. One shot was enough.

"Spanner?" he heard Ianto's slightly questioning tone.

"Target acquired," she repeated, "Standing by."

"Coming up on your target, Spanner," Stephen's slightly breathless voice and pounding footsteps echoed in his ear.

"Spanner, you're up."

There was a soft click, then the sliding sound of the casing being ejected from the chamber, "Target eliminated."

"Good to go, Stephen," Ianto's voice was next.

"Gotcha. On Connor's target in less than a minute."

"Connor?" Ianto's calm voice spoke to him now.

The same as Spanner, he replied, "Target acquired. Standing by."

"You're up."

Connor kept his voice to barely above a whisper so it wouldn't disturb any other broadcasts, "Fire, fire, fire," he squeezed the trigger, "Hit," he raised his voice, "Target eliminated."

"Good to go, Stephen," Ianto said again.

"Right," Stephen sounded saddened.

That was followed almost a minute later by, "Phase two, complete."

"Nick?"

"Ready and waitin'."

Ianto's voice came back again, hope colouring his tone, "Bring it home, everyone."

Connor inched back from the edge of the roof, rolling onto his back, then onto his feet. He scooped up his rifle and the empty shell casing, tucking the casing into his pocket and slinging his rifle across his back. Moving quickly, he left the roof, darting through the abandoned building. He stopped at the door, pulling the Beretta Spanner had pressed into his hand out of its holster.

He slid through the streets, gun coming up, but quickly dropping down again as Mariko moved up beside him. Mariko raised an eyebrow at his back as he jogged a few steps ahead of her, stopping so she could catch up, and nodding at the SUV Nick had ready and idling. Mariko nodded back, holding up three fingers. She dropped them one by one. As the last one fell, they both dashed for the car, flinging themselves across seats and bodies.

Nick floored it, making Spanner squawk in protest as the car squealed, "Good Christ! Are you insane?! My poor baby!"

"Shut up and let the man drive, Spanner! People will be trying to kill us soon!" Ianto yelled back, head down and eyes scrunched shut as Nick swerved through Cardiff.

But despite Ianto's dire predictions, they made it back to the pub unharmed, with no one on their tail. They all piled out of the SUV, everyone but Nick looking as though they wanted to kiss the ground in relief. Mariko headed straight for the doors to the pub, Ianto quickly catching up to her and holding the door open for her. Spanner stood next to the SUV, running a hand over its hood and patting the grille, as though soothing it after the hellish ride Nick had put it through.

Connor, Nick and Stephen walked together towards the pub, arguing about Nick's driving capabilities. Or, as Connor and Stephen were trying to point out, rather loudly, considerable lack thereof.

"I'm serious, Nick, I thought I was going to end up with the console up my arse for a while there!" Stephen gestured rather graphically to this effect.

Connor laughed and added, "I know! I started off in Spanner's lap. Then ended up on Ianto's feet. Then on Spanner's feet. Then on Ianto's lap. Then Mariko ended up on my lap."

"Bloody hell! It's called evasive driving!" Nick shot back good naturedly.

"Evading what?" Connor shot back, "It isn't like there was anyone shooting at us from bloody rooftops…" his voice trailed off.

Nick's smiling retort was cut very short as Connor abruptly paled, turning ghost-white in bare seconds. He stopped dead, halfway through a step. Stephen stepped in front of him, reaching a hand out to touch a shoulder. Connor's breath hitched once, twice.

"Connor?" Nick questioned, worry and fear colouring his voice and his eyes.

"Oh my God…" Connor's eyes stared, utterly horrified, into the distance.

"Connor?" Stephen took a turn, gently touching his shoulder.

"Oh my God. Oh… Oh God. Oh my God…" Connor shoved past them both and ran.

He had disappeared around the side of the pub before Nick and Stephen got their act into gear and raced after him. Before the two had even made it three steps, the sounds of retching and someone being violently sick could be heard. Nick and Stephen dashed around the back of the pub, leaving Spanner alone by the SUV. All alone, no-one saw her shoulders start to shake silently, nor the small amount of tears that fell onto the SUV's hood.

When Stephen and Nick skidded around the corner to find Connor, what they saw shocked them beyond belief. Connor was hunched over, shuddering almost painfully as dry heaves still racked his body. His chest heaved as he cried, tears rolling down his face, coughing and choking on the gut-wrenching sobs that spilled up and out of him. Stephen and Nick dropped to their knees next to him, placing hands on his shoulders and back.

"Connor…"

"Murderer…" was returned harshly.

Nick and Stephen both recoiled, "What?" they asked as one.

"'m a murderer."

"Connor, no…" Stephen tried to curl an arm around the younger man, only have him recoil.

"You aren't a murderer," Nick said, trying to touch his other shoulder.

"But… I killed him."

"May I?" Spanner cut in, voice slightly subdued.

She didn't wait for a response before worming her way between Stephen and Connor, sitting cross-legged on the ground in front of him. Stephen blinked at the back of her head for a moment, before shifting away, shaking his head. Nick shook his own head, not letting go of Connor's knee.

Connor raised his eyes to meet hers, "I killed him," he whispered hoarsely.

"Yeah, sweetheart," Spanner said with a sad sigh, "You did."

A broken sob forced its way out of Connor, "'m a murderer…"

"Conn… Connor," Spanner stroked his hair, showing a softer personality than any of them had ever seen before, "Is your Stephen, here, a murderer?" she waited for a slow headshake, "He's shot people."

"But…"

"He's killed people, sweetheart, same as I have," Spanner gestured around her, "Look at what we're dealing with. It sounds trite, I know, but this is war, Connor. It is quite literally, them or us."

"But…"

"No, Connor… No," Spanner raised her head, letting Connor see the desperation in her eyes, "If I give up on you and say 'yeah, Conn, you're a murderer' for that one mission then I'll have to turn around and look at all the stuff I've done," she shook her head, "I… I can't do that, Connor."

Stephen and Nick watched, stunned, as something in Connor's face shifted. The hiccupping breaths that had accompanied his sobs slowed, finally stopping. A shaking hand placed itself on Spanner's knee. No words were said, none were needed. But they were all changed now. A harsh new hardness had bloomed like shattered glass in Connor's dark eyes. A deep, dark vulnerability had been unearthed in Spanner's. And a profound sadness could now be found in Nick and Stephen's eyes, for the innocence lost in them all.

Standing away from them all, Ianto looked down at Mariko, sighing sadly and nodding towards the three men as Spanner got to her feet, "Five days," he said cryptically.

Mariko looked up at him, a little confused until she saw the look in his eyes, then she too sighed sadly, "I'm not sure it'll even take that long."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Walking towards the bar with the intention of hunting down more gun oil, Mariko frowned, slowing as she heard voices from within. She stopped in front of the closed door, raising an eyebrow at it. It was rarely closed, if ever. She reached a hand to the doorknob, curling fingers around it, before whispers of words floated back to her.

'Connor…'

'…love you…'

'…but Stephen…'

'I can't…'

She winced slightly, taking her hand away from the doorknob and walking away on near silent feet. Looks like she'd been right, after all. Ianto had been wrong. It had taken them only three days. Mariko sighed.

Sometimes it sucked to be right…

"No, Connor…"

Connor's face fell, "But…"

"You don't really feel that way," Stephen carefully schooled his face into a mask, "It's just a reaction to being trapped back here. You're fixating on the only people you recognise. I'll bet you've found yourself having feelings for Nick too, right?"

Stephen carefully ignored the fact that he too had had feelings for both the young man in front of him and the man who had been his best friend and become more. Blame the anomaly. It had worked in the past. He also carefully ignored the dawning horror and pain on Connor's face. He tried hard to ignore the blooming flush of shame and the well of tears in his eyes.

"Yeah…" he choked out, "I have… But…" Connor swiped angrily at the tears in his eyes, "They were there before we came through the bloody gold anomaly, wanker…"

He snatched up the rifle that had become so much a part of him lately and narrowed his eyes, "I just thought it might be something you should know before we all bloody die here," then, ominous words ringing in Stephen's ears, he turned and stormed away, biting back angry tears.

Stephen stared after the furious grad student in shock. He swore softly and sank in to the nearest seat, then dropped his head down onto his arms, mentally cursing himself. Stupid, stupid, stupid. He thumped his head lightly on his forearms. Then he did it again, ignoring the sound of footsteps coming up beside him and taking the seat next to him.

"Did Connor just talk to you?" Nick's rolling lilt asked him, a bewildered note colouring it.

"Mmhmm…" Stephen muffled his answer into his arm.

"About…" Stephen could practically hear the blush in the older man's voice, "… bein' in love with you?"

"Mmhmm…"

"Did you tell him that was ridiculous?" Nick sounded like he wanted to be told that too.

"Mmhmm…" but this muffled answer held a note of quiet pain that the others didn't.

Nick responded softly, "Me too."

Stephen finally raised his head, "We're idiots, aren't we?"

"Yes," the new voice made them both turn.

Spanner leaned against the doorframe, a scowl on her face. Her AK-47 rested against one hip. Nick and Stephen both blanched. Spanner took the three steps over to them, grabbing a chair and swinging it round, straddling it. She glared at them for a moment longer, gun now cradled against her chest.

"Connor's gone."

Nick and Stephen clamoured over each other, both trying to get their voices heard first, "What?!"

"Gone where?!"

"…need to go after him!"

Spanner tilted her head slowly to the side, red braid swinging over one shoulder, and looked at them both, "How does it feel, gentlemen?"

"What?" Nick looked at her in shock, "Connor's gone and you're tryin' to play psychiatrist!"

Stephen glared at her, "Tell us where he went, Spanner, for Christ sakes!"

"No," she calmly tapped out a rhythm on the barrel of her AK-47.

Stephen brought a fist down hard on the table in front of her, "Tell us… where he went!"

"I won't," she said smirking, "Because he hasn't gone anywhere. He's on the range shooting fuck out of practice targets," the AK-47 shifted slightly as Stephen moved to get up, "Sit the fuck down!" she barked.

Stephen sat.

"So…" she continued, almost conversationally, "How does it feel?"

"What?" Nick looked almost sick, "Connor… he's alright?"

"Perfectly fine," Spanner said, "Physically, at least," she added with a meaningful look at the two of them.

Stephen had dropped his eyes to the table, "You did that on purpose?" he asked incredulously.

"Mmhmm," Spanner nodded.

"Why?" Stephen looked at her like she was utterly mad.

"How does it feel?" Spanner repeated, "How does it feel to be utterly mindfucked?" she stared first Stephen, then Nick, dead in the eyes until both men squirmed and looked away, "Because that is exactly what the two of you did to Connor. What you're still doing to Connor."

Both Stephen and Nick blanched, faces paling.

"Talk to him. Make him happy," Spanner gestured with her AK-47, "I like him. That boy has become my friend. Not many people can say that. Put a smile back on his face," the AK-47 was brandished more vehemently, "Give me something to mock him about."

"Or you'll blow holes in us?" Nick tried to lighten the situation with one of Spanner's usual threats.

"Sweetie," Spanner gave him an icy look, "Fix it. Or once I'm done with you, you'll wish I'd filled you full of holes."

Then with no further ado, the redhead swung herself off the chair, hefted her gun against her chest once more and left. Stephen and Nick were left staring in Spanner's wake. As the swinging door to the bar finally slowed and stopped, Nick and Stephen turned to look at each other, both sets of blue eyes mirroring pain and sadness.

"She's right," Stephen said, filling the deafening silence Spanner left behind.

Nick nodded, scrubbing a hand across his eyes, "What have we done, Stephen?"

"Something very stupid," Stephen stood up, "Let's go fix it. And hope Connor doesn't shoot us for it."

Nick nodded and followed the younger man down to the range. He couldn't suppress the wince as he heard the angry crack and clatter, then the sudden bang, of Connor reloading, aiming and firing. Over and over. Over and over. The two men stared at Connor's back for a while, watching as the new-formed muscles rippled under his shirt while he reloaded, aimed and fired.

Nick waited until Connor reached a break in firing, "Connor?" he called out.

Connor stiffened abruptly, then slumped dejectedly, "Spanner found you, did she?" he didn't bother turning round, instead hunting for more ammunition, "I told her not to bother."

"Connor…" Stephen tried to get the young man to turn around.

"Oh… She managed to find both of you," Connor's normally exuberant voice was flat.

Nick moved first, stepping between Connor's hand and his next pile of ammunition, "We need to talk, Connor."

Stephen grabbed his wrist as Connor tried to reach around Nick's body to grab the ammo anyway, "Connor… please."

"Why?" Connor finally raised dark eyes to meet their collective blue, "So you can tell me I'm being ridiculous again?" he shook his head and dropped it again, trying to shake off Stephen's hand.

"No," Stephen's answer was enough to make Connor raise his head again, eyes narrowing suspiciously, "So we can tell you how ridiculous we're being."

"I'm sorry… what?" Connor kept a disturbingly tight hold on his rifle.

"No, we're sorry," Nick looked earnest and wide-eyed, much like he did when trying to explain dinosaurs and other things he was passionate about, "We're idiots. We didn't… I didn't…" he trailed off.

Connor's face remained impassive, implacable, "Didn't what?" the rifle shifted in his hands.

Stephen threw all caution to the wind. He ignored the fact that Connor was now a better shot than he was. He ignored the fact that Connor was currently clutching a sniper rifle like it was a security blanket. Stephen stepped forward, fisted one hand in Connor's shirt, curled the other around the back of his neck and pressed their mouths together.

Nick stared as Connor's eyes widened and he let out a startled noise. Then as Stephen's persistent mouth and even more persistent tongue began to wear him down, Connor's eyes slowly fluttered closed, the rifle slid to the floor, and Connor's hands wormed their way into Stephen's hair.

It seemed like forever before the two men finally parted, foreheads resting together, panting for air. Nick shifted uneasily. Stephen pulled back, sliding one hand up to cup Connor's cheek, the other reaching out to grab Nick's hand. He tugged on the older man's hand, making Nick take the hesitant few steps towards Connor. Then he pressed his fingertips gently against Connor's cheek, turning his face towards Nick's.

Nick still looked hesitant as he gazed down on Connor's lightly flushed face and kiss swollen lips. So this time, it was Connor who took the initiative, taking hold of the hand that Stephen wasn't grasping and using his other to pull the taller man down into a kiss. Nick twitched lightly in his arms, but soon all but melted as Connor's inexperienced, but enthusiastic tongue darted across his lips.

Connor pulled back, smiling a little, and gently turned Nick's head to Stephen. Nick shook his head slightly and tried to press his head back towards Connor. Stephen's face fell and Connor's hardened. He pressed his hand a little more firmly against Nick's cheek.

"Nick…" he said quietly, "Look at him."

Nick allowed his face to be turned to look at Stephen and swallowed hard. Stephen's bright blue eyes stared back at him for a moment then looked away. Connor kept his hand on Nick's face, touch feather light now. Nick looked down, finally noticing that Stephen still held his hand. He squeezed the hand holding his lightly. Stephen's eyes darted back up.

"He's not Helen," Connor said softly and succinctly, hitting the nail and Nick's worries on the head, "Neither of us are."

"I…" Nick scrubbed his free hand through his hair, "Damn it. Come here, Stephen."

Stephen paused, but Nick grabbed the hand that still held his and pulled him in. There was no hungry pressing of lips, no persistently darting tongues. When Nick leant in and pressed his mouth to Stephen's, it was all about comfort. It was gentle, a soft slide of lips together, tongues touching then retreating then meeting again languorously.

When they pulled apart, Connor was smiling. That put a hesitant return smile on both Nick and Stephen's faces. Connor's eyes were smiling too. But still he dropped Nick's hand and let go of Stephen's shirt. He bent down and picked up the rifle that had slid to the floor in the midst of it all.

"You aren't in the clear yet," he grinned cheekily at them, back to the old Connor once more, "I expect grovelling, lots of grovelling."

Stephen's grin could've split the cloudy sky in two, "I think we can suitably grovel. Don't you, Nick?"

Nick's smile was slightly less toothy, but no less heartfelt, "Oh… I'm sure we can think o' somethin' nice," there was a twinkle in the older man's eyes that promised things beyond Connor's imagination.

"Get a room," Spanner grumbled, pushing into their little group and taking Connor's rifle from his hands, "Shove off, Connor, range is mine for the afternoon," she gave him a knowing wink and all but leered at Nick and Stephen.

Connor blushed, glaring at his shooting instructor and newfound friend, but still taking the time to grab Nick and Stephen by an arm each and pull them after him. Stephen and Nick didn't need much more encouragement, allowing themselves to be pulled along a couple of steps, before quickening their pace and flanking the younger man. Stephen slid a hand into Connor's jacket, willowing it around until it found his back pocket. Nick just settled for curling an arm around his waist, letting his hand rest on Stephen's arm as he did.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

**March 21**

**Friston Forest**

**11:26:20am**

Ryan stood staring, utterly stunned, at the place where the gold anomaly had once been. He turned full circle, trying to see… what, he didn't really know, exactly. It had just winked out. He'd stepped right through where it had been. Ryan could hear Abby making confused and alarmed noises behind him. He didn't blame her. He'd be making those noises too if his training allowed.

"There!" one of his men yelled, "Sir! Behind you!"

Hefting his gun tight to his chest, Ryan spun on his heel. And sure enough, the anomaly was back. Still the same shimmering gold. Still the same magnetic pull on his tac-vest. Still in the same… or not. The anomaly was roughly three feet to the left of where it had previously been.

Ryan's training went out the window as his jaw dropped and he made a noise that sounded suspiciously like, "Bwah…?!"

Shaking off the shock, Ryan scowled as the anomaly started to flicker yet again, "The hell you are…" he growled, and threw himself at the shimmering gold, clenching his eyes shut as he slid through space and time.

He regretted closing his eyes. He regretted it the moment he opened them on the other side of the anomaly, bringing his gun up to bear. It was about that time, when he opened his eyes, that he realised, this was not Jurassic Park. He turned a careful circle, keeping an eye out for Cutter, Stephen and Connor, gun up. He finished, facing the anomaly, and watched, mood growing fouler, as it shimmered cheerfully at him and winked out.

Ryan turned back to look at his surroundings. He flicked on the light mounted on his gun barrel. Shining it slowly up and down, Ryan came to the conclusion that he was standing in some sort of tunnel. Definitely not Jurassic Park. He shone his light further down the left-hand fork and frowned. Then he shone it down the right-hand fork. Which way?

The decision was taken away from him by the sound of running footsteps coming from the left-hand fork. Lots of running footsteps. Ryan swore and took off down the right-hand fork, gun clutched tightly to his chest. A shout and a gunshot pinging off the wall behind him made him run all the faster. He splashed through a stagnant puddle, swearing as muddy water sloshed up his leg.

Later, Ryan still wouldn't be able to say exactly how it had happened. One minute he'd been running. The next… Ryan blinked up at the booted foot on his chest, still wheezing slightly from where he'd had the wind knocked out of him. He reached to pull his gun barrel up, then swore softly as another gun barrel was pointed directly between his eyes.

"Stay down," a man's voice told him.

Ryan frowned, still trying to heave air into his lungs, "What the bloody hell?!"

"He did it again," another man's voice came out of the darkness, followed closely by another gun barrel.

"Oi!" Ryan scowled indignantly, then coughed as the booted foot pressed down a bit more on his chest.

"Who is it this time?" the final piece of Ryan's oddball puzzle slid into place, shining a pen light in his eyes.

"Bloody hell!"

"Captain Ryan?!"

The final shocked squawk came from the person holding the booted foot to Ryan's chest and the rifle barrel in his face. The boot moved away and the rifle barrel came up. What that revealed only confirmed Ryan's suspicions that this was some bizarre Twilight Zone. Connor Temple. Connor goddamn bloody Temple. The geeky grad student had gotten the drop on him!

"Bloody hell," Connor said, crouching down and offering Ryan the hand that didn't have a gun in it, "I am so sorry, Captain."

"You owe me your dessert rations, Cutter," came another familiar voice, "He did it again."

"Hart?" Ryan allowed himself to be helped to his feet, coming face to face with Stephen, "And Cutter?" he turned a little more to see Nick.

Stephen shot him a smile, but Nick was too busy scowling at Stephen, "That doesn't count!"

Stephen turned away from Ryan to frown at Nick, "Course it does!"

"Not enough for my dessert rations, it doesn't!"

"Bugger you! He clearly used a…" Stephen was cut off by a piercing whistle.

Ryan waited until he had all three men's attention, "Will someone… for the love of everything holy… tell me what the fuck is going on?"

Nick shook his head, "Not here," he took Ryan's arm, "It's not safe. Come on…"

Stephen took the lead, calling over his shoulder, "Nick, with Ryan. Connor, on our six."

It was then that Captain Tom Ryan noticed that, despite his fully equipped tac-vest, each of the three men, all civilians, were armed far more heavily than he was. It made him blink in confusion. It made him not a little nervous. What the hell was going on here?

Ryan shook off the outward signs of unease and followed Hart and Cutter down the tunnel. He could hear Connor walking behind him, and gave in to the urge to steal a glance over his shoulder. Connor walked along the tunnel, watching everything around him, gun held carefully in his hands. That was not right. Ryan shook his head and turned back to watch where he was going, memorising the twists and turns in the tunnels… just in case.

He was led through the tunnels and up a ladder, coming out into grey daylight at the start of an alley. Ryan looked around, frowning, even as he was hurried forward by Nick. Stephen waited anxiously by the ladder, reaching down to haul Connor up by the collar. Both men then split up, Stephen darting left around one building, Connor sliding right. Ryan shook his head again. Nick tugged on his arm again, dragging him over to a battered looking SUV.

"Get in," he growled, still looking around, even as he held the door open for Ryan.

He was startled out of that train of thought as the back and passenger doors of the SUV were flung open. Stephen hurled himself into the passenger seat. Connor threw himself lengthways across the backseat, head ending up in Ryan's lap.

"Go! Go, go, go!" Stephen yelled, slamming his door shut.

Nick floored it. Connor barely yanked his feet inside the car in time before his door slammed shut. Ryan swore as Connor struggled his way into a sitting position, wincing. Stephen leaned around the passenger seat, a worried frown on his face. Connor rolled himself into his own seat, waving off Stephen's concern with a small smile. Stephen nodded, still frowning slightly, but sat back around.

Nick kept his foot down, zigzagging through what Ryan now recognized as Cardiff, though it was no Cardiff that he'd ever seen before. It looked… dead. Post-Apocalyptic. Mad-Max on crack. Ryan shook his head for what seemed like the hundredth time. He felt a foot nudge his. He looked over to meet Connor's eyes. The grad student's mouth curled up in a wry, slightly bitter smile. The expression looked so out of place on Connor's face that Ryan almost did a double take.

He couldn't look at it for long, instead turning to look at Nick's eyes in the rearview mirror, "Now, will someone tell me what the bloody hell is going on?!"

Nick only responded with, "Took you long enough."

Ryan scowled at the rearview, "Excuse the fuck outta me, Cutter," he leaned forward, "The anomaly disappeared for seven seconds, then it reappeared. I hauled my arse through that damn thing the second it showed up again."

"Seven seconds?" Stephen said incredulously.

"_Cnych…"_ Connor breathed.

Ryan looked first at Connor, then at Stephen, "What?"

Nick's eyes flicked up to the rearview, "You've been hanging round Spanner for far too long, Connor. That's vulgar."

Stephen took pity on Ryan, "We… we've been here for four months."

"What?!" Ryan yelped, "That's impossible!"

"Think, Ryan," Nick said, eyes flicking up to the rearview again for a split second, before swinging the SUV round a corner using the handbrake, "In what world could Connor have kicked your arse?"

"Hey!" Connor pouted from the backseat.

Stephen shot him a grin, before continuing, "In what world do I respond to a situation by placing Nick on point and Connor on my six?"

Nick carried on, eyes still on the road, "In what world does Connor curse like a longshoreman with Tourettes? In Welsh, no less."

Ryan's face looked troubled, struggling to come to grips with what was being said, so Connor jumped in with, "In what world does Nick drive like a madman? No… wait… that's any world."

Ryan let out a weak snicker at that, then looked at each man in turn, "Four months?"

Stephen nodded, "And this?" he gestured out the window, "You may have noticed, it's not exactly friendly territory."

Ryan snorted, then nodded, looking out the window himself, "It looks like Cardiff. Well…" he amended, as he realised they were now on a country road, "Looked."

Nick kept the SUV steady at a speed that Ryan really didn't want to think about, "Because it is."

Ryan twitched in his seat at that blunt pronouncement, "Its no bloody Cardiff I've ever seen," he scowled, looking back out the window again.

He immediately wished he hadn't. Scarring the once-beautiful Welsh countryside was a sight that Ryan saw only in his nightmares. Biting down hard on his lip, Ryan fought the strangled noise that threatened its way up his throat. He kept his breathing slow and even as his eyes remained fixed out the window. Pockmarked scars dotted the fields, remnants of landmines. Razor wire curled around sign posts. Bullet holes had torn up the road's shoulder. Ryan stared in horror, colour slowly draining from his face. This was Wales. Wales, not the Balkans.

"… Ryan…"

The voice came from very far away.

"… Ryan…"

Tom Ryan blinked and snapped back into himself. He turned away from the window and looked into Stephen, Nick and Connor's concerned faces. He blinked again as he belatedly realised the battered old SUV had stopped moving. Ryan took a deep breath and looked around. He raised an eyebrow at the location.

"A pub?"

Connor grinned at him, "Yeah," he slid out the SUV, "Apocalyptic Armageddon War is fought outta the local. Can you think of anywhere better?"

At those words Ryan stared at him, "At the moment," he snorted, "No. I could use a drink or nine."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Ryan followed the three men into the pub… the bloody pub! He gazed around at what should've been a warm, welcoming atmosphere filled with music, voices and laughter. His mouth twitched a little as he saw the bar mostly taken over by what looked like half the SAS's small arms project. The beer barrels in the back were the home of various car parts and ammunition. The vinyl-seated booths in the back had been turned into… Ryan stared… was that a make-shift infirmary?

"Christ on his cross!" a woman's yell sailed across the pub, along with the unmistakable sound of guns being removed from their holsters, "Who the fuckin' hell is this?!"

Ryan spun, own gun coming up. "What the fuck? Who the fuck am I? Who the fuck are you?!"

Ryan found himself facing off with what looked like Pippi Longstockings' evil twin. The slender woman had a pretty, freckled face and green eyes. And, most bizarrely to Ryan at least, curly red hair pulled into low pigtails. He blinked twice, before the twin Berettas in evil Pippi's hands registered and he focused himself once more.

A manic smile curled evil Pippi's lips, "Me, sweetheart? I'm your worst nightmare."

"Oh for the love of…" and in a move that surprised Ryan enough to make him lower his gun a fraction, Nick stepped into the Berettas line of fire.

"Pack it in, Spanner," Connor called from behind the bar, sliding his rifle into the rack that had once been used for wine glasses.

"Still don't know who he is," she sing-songed at them.

"Captain Tom Ryan," Stephen said in a longsuffering voice, "He comes from the same place we do."

"Oh…" evil Pippi holstered her guns, "Right-o then."

Ryan reluctantly lowered his, "Tom Ryan…" he hesitantly held out a hand for her to shake.

"Spanner!" she returned cheerfully, shaking his hand.

Ryan opened his mouth, blinked, then closed it again, before murmuring to Stephen quietly, "Her name is Spanner?"

"Yep."

"Ah…"

"I know."

"What the hell is going on? I heard Spanner yelling…" all heads turned to look at the newcomers.

A slight, Asian woman stood in the doorway, a tall, fair-skinned man standing behind her. Both were armed. Heavily. Ryan could see at least three guns on the woman, as well as the assault rifle she cradled almost lovingly in her arms. It was like Mulan ditched her swords for bigger and better things. He didn't even want to guess at how many he couldn't see. The man was just as heavily armed, an almost bland, butler-ish expression on his face making him look like a cross between Rambo and Jeeves. He had two guns that Ryan could see, not including the sniper rifle in his arms, and a hunting knife in a sheath on his left thigh.

"And Spanner yelling is new… how?" Connor laughed and ducked a swipe from the aforementioned Spanner.

The Asian woman rolled her eyes, "I meant not in the normal way."

"Spanner has a normal way?" it was Stephen's turn to duck a slap now.

Ryan just shook his head, sitting down in the nearest chair. He blinked in shock for what seemed like the millionth time. What in the bloody hell was going on? Connor and Nick… with guns? Stephen… as a soldier? The three of them running what had all the hallmarks of a guerrilla seek-and-retreat mission? The three of them hanging around with people that were obviously bloody psychotic? Abruptly, Ryan remembered Nick's and Stephen's words to him in the SUV.

'Took you long enough.'

'We… we've been here for four months.'

"Will someone please explain to me what the fuck is goin' on here?" he asked, hating the plaintive note in his voice.

Nick blanched, "Christ Ryan, I'm sorry."

Stephen sat in the chair next to Ryan, "Um… where to begin?"

Ryan raised an eyebrow and nodded in the general direction of evil Pippi, Mulan and Rambo-Jeeves, making Stephen nod and start speaking again, "Right, right. Well, you've already met Spanner."

Stephen carried on as Ryan nodded, eyes straying to evil Pippi… Spanner, "Alright then. The other woman is Mariko Katsukaro," he pointed to Mulan, "And the man with her is Ianto Jones."

"Captain Tom Ryan," the introduction was made curtly.

"Pleasure," Mulan… Mariko replied dryly.

The silence that stretched after that soon turned uncomfortable, making Connor fidget and blurt out, "The gold anomaly!"

When everyone turned to look at him, he flushed a little and clarified, "We came through a gold anomaly… the gold shiny thing…" he sighed as Mariko, Ianto and Spanner looked clueless, "Anyway… that gold anomaly brought us here, it must've brought Ryan here too."

He looked at Ryan for confirmation, smiling as the other man nodded, "Right. So if the anomaly brought Ryan here too…" Connor blinked suddenly, obviously remembering the conversation in the SUV, "Wait…"

"What?" Mariko eyed him suspiciously.

"How long did you say the anomaly had been gone for on your end, Ryan?" Connor looked increasingly troubled.

"Seven seconds," Ryan sighed, "I just missed you going through. Landed flat on my face. Had enough time to pick myself up and look around like a knobhead… Then the bloody thing appeared three feet away from where it had been before."

Ianto stared, "But…"

Mariko looked up at him, then down at Ryan, "But they've been here for four months," she said, confused.

"So Nick said," Ryan looked as confused as she did.

"Everybody, everybody! Put your hands in the air if y'all don't get it! Woo!" Spanner threw up her arms gleefully.

Connor snorted at her, biting back a laugh, "I don't get it either," he said, "Something must've… shifted… Normally the anomalies only go back to the prehistoric past."

A small smile curled Ryan's lips, "Did I or did I not say the gold anomaly was a bad idea?"

"Yeah, yeah…" all three men rolled their eyes.

"Okay, okay…" Spanner held up her hands again, "Shut up for a second. Except you," she pointed to Ryan, "You keep talking. So… according to you… you saw these men," she pointed to Connor, Nick and Stephen, "Seven seconds ago?"

"Well… a bit more than that…" Ryan said, deliberately being pedantic, "Because I had at least two minutes to wonder what the fuck was going on before I was tackled by Connor, here."

"Taught him everything he knows…" Spanner grinned, then let it fade, "But really… seven seconds between them leaving… wherever you lot come from… and you leaving?"

Ryan nodded, "Seven seconds exactly. It's protocol to time an anomaly if it disappears with someone on the wrong end of it."

Spanner nodded as well, albeit a lot slower than Ryan, before turning to Connor, "So… you've got a lot to explain to him then, dontcha?"

Connor gave her a flat look, "Thanks, Spanner."

Ryan blinked at Spanner, shaking his head as she flitted Connor a cheerful wave over her shoulder. She all but skipped out the door, grabbing one each of Mariko and Ianto's hands on her way through and dragging them out with her. Connor, Nick and Stephen watched her leave, all wearing identical long-suffering looks.

Ryan looked at them, waiting for them to turn back and meet his eyes, "Well… evil Pippi says you've got some explaining to do."

"Evil Pippi?" Connor's face lit up in a diabolical grin that even Ryan could tell had come from Spanner, "I am so using that."

"Connor…" Stephen nodded at Ryan, then continued, "Yeah, Spanner was right. There is… a lot of things that need to be explained here."

"Yeah…" Ryan rolled his hands.

Nick sighed and took over when it looked like no-one was going to start, "As you obviously saw, this isn't our world. It's still the same year, still the same country. But…" he shook his head, "It's not where we came from."

"This world is at war," Stephen said bluntly, "With aliens."

"With… I'm sorry, what?" Ryan looked at him like he was a complete nutter.

"Aliens," Stephen repeated, "Supposedly pacifist beings called the Toclafane that were meant to come to Earth and establish peaceful relations with the Prime Minister, who isn't Gordon Brown, just by the way, but an utter loony-wank by the name of Harold Saxon."

"Right…"

"And," Connor cut in, "Harold Saxon used the Toclafane to assassinate the US president. He now rules most of the world. What bits of the world he hasn't enslaved, he's having killed. Using the Toclafane," the young man's face turned sorrowful, "It's… not a nice place here, Ryan."

Ryan stared, "So… you've been living here," he gestured around him, "In a pub… in wartime conditions… for four months?"

All three nodded.

"Well, shit."

Silence reigned for a long while as each of the four men let their thoughts turn inwards. Ryan was the first to break himself free, taking the time to look at each of the others in turn. What he saw surprised him more than he cared to admit.

Connor, who was once an enthusiastic, bumbling ball of twitchy energy. Now, he sat with a sniper's stillness, eyes staring off into the distance, looking disturbingly at ease in his shoulder holster and makeshift tac vest.

Nick, almost as bad as Connor in his enthusiasm, although normally able to keep his feet and his head. He now sat, one hand stroking absently across a hip, as though missing the weight of a weapon against his side, one leg turned away from his body to compensate for the hunting knife strapped to his calf.

And Stephen, a tracker with experience in weapons. Of all of them, Ryan would've thought he would've changed the least. But… Stephen had an AK-47 assault rifle laid across his lap, something Ryan would never have seen him with before. Stephen was almost as anal as Nick about not killing what came out of the anomalies. He also scanned every exit of the pub routinely. And, like Nick, he had one leg held away from his body, but his was stretched out to compensate for the K-Bar knife strapped to the inside of his thigh.

"And obviously you've been trained," he said, breaking the silence, "By those guys, I'm guessing. So… are they… what? Militia?"

All three nodded again, Nick speaking up, "Yeah, they're militia. Of a sort. They're… we're… fighting back as best we can, and surviving when we can't."

"And you were right about the training too, mate," Connor nodded to him, "Nick got hand to hand lessons with Ianto and hand gun and assault rifle training with Mariko. Stephen got more advanced gun work with Mariko and hand to hand with Ianto," Ryan didn't miss the way he left out his own training.

Neither did Nick and Stephen, who exchanged a look, before Nick spoke up again, "And Connor was tutored by Spanner. Mechanical repair and sabotage. Sniper assault."

Ryan didn't miss the look either, "And… there's something else I'm missing too, isn't there?"

This was a situation that the Connor Temple Ryan knew would've reacted to by blushing furiously, mumbling half sentences and blurting random references to obscure B movies. The Connor Temple that reacted was obviously not the Connor Temple that Ryan knew. Ryan almost recoiled from the icy expression in Connor's eyes and the head tilt that reminded Nick and Stephen almost painfully of Spanner.

"Back down, Connor," Stephen said in a voice that Ryan had only ever heard him use on wild animals, "It's Ryan, remember?"

Connor narrowed his eyes a little, then sighed and nodded, dropping his head, "Yeah… Sorry, Ryan," he mumbled through a curtain of hair.

"It'll be fine once someone tells me what the bloody hell is goin' on," Ryan said, still looking incredulously at Connor.

Nick took over, "Well… erm…"

Stephen sighed and said bluntly, "We're in a relationship."

"What? You and Connor?" Ryan looked between them both.

"Me, Nick and Connor."

"All three?"

"Mmhmm."

A blink, "Okay then."

"That's it?" Connor let go of the knife hilt Ryan belatedly realised he'd been holding, "Just 'okay then'?"

"Temple… you've just told me that I stepped through an anomaly to a parallel universe in which I'm now at war with assassin aliens that have enslaved the world at the behest of the PM. Right now… I don't think anything could shock me."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Ryan learned quickly in the bizarre alternate universe that he'd been thrown into. Never, ever say that nothing will shock you anymore. Ever. Because sure as eggs, it will find a way to smack you upside the head with a rubber chicken and run away giggling. Nick, Stephen and Connor in a committed, albeit unorthodox, threesome? Not a problem. Kinda… Aliens trying to take over the world?

That takes some getting used to.

And in getting used to his slightly off-kilter new world, Captain Tom Ryan found himself in a position that was both unusual and not-so-unusual position for him to be in. Head down, flinching slightly, gun blazing in a combat situation? Not-so-unusual. Fighting for his life, back to back with a former tax consultant and a government cover-up specialist against alien forces that looked like Satan's version of Mr Potato Head? That was unusual.

"Reloading!" Mariko called dropping back.

Ryan shifted slightly, covering her. Mariko reloaded quickly and efficiently, glasses askew on her face, making Ryan shake his head as he turned back to his own enemies. She hadn't even had time to swap her contacts in. Ryan swore softly under his breath, knowing subconsciously he was running low on ammo. Any second now… He should really pull back.

Click.

"Fuck. Reloading!" he dropped back, just as Mariko had done.

He felt his pocket. Nothing. He felt his belt. Nothing. Oh shit…

"Ianto… I'm out. Really out!"

"What?!" Ianto flicked his head back to see Ryan, empty-handed and utterly frustrated in the dirt behind him.

He kept one finger on the trigger, bracing his gun against his chest and fumbled through his own pockets, tossing a magazine in Ryan's general direction, "Here! But that's my last too!"

Mariko spoke up, "I'm on my last, now, Ianto."

"Shite…" Ianto risked a glance over at Mariko, "We need to…"

His answer was cut short in a cry of pain as one of the Toclafane rushed forward and slashed at his chest. He staggered back, breathing harshly, blood rapidly staining the tear in his shirt and dripping down his side. Mariko let out a sound she refused to acknowledge as a wail and swung her assault rifle around, destroying the Toclafane completely.

She only lowered her gun when the chamber began to click over, "Ianto?"

Mariko finally came back to herself and clued in, "Ianto!" she ran to him, pressing her hands down on the wound.

"Easy, Mariko… It's not as bad as it looks," Ianto looked a little stunned.

"Little help!" Ryan called over his shoulder.

Ianto gave Mariko a quick smile and gently took her now-bloodied hands away from his chest, "On it!" he pulled his gun up again and started firing.

"Well it's about time," Ryan yelled back, shooting another Toclafane out of the air.

"Shut up," Ianto grumbled at him, twisting away with a muffled curse as the Toclafane in front of him exploded.

He turned back, ready to fire at whatever Toclafane remained. But none did. They had all gone. Ianto's eyes narrowed suspiciously. That wasn't like them. Back up. They'd gone for back up. Had to have done. Ianto turned to Ryan to voice his concerns and blinked in shock when he couldn't see him.

"Ryan?" he glanced around, "Bloody hell! Ryan!"

Blood covering his face, Captain Tom Ryan lay flat on his back on the floor. Ianto dropped to his knees next to him, hissing as his wound pulled. Mariko followed quickly, wiping Ianto's blood off her hands and grimacing lightly before poking as perfunctorily as she could through the blood on Ryan's face.

"Head wound, deep," she pulled her hands away, blood covering her fingertips, "He probably got beaned by a piece of Toclafane as it whizzed past."

"Breathing?" Ianto still looked concerned.

"Yeah… pulse is steady too. He should be fine. Just a nice little scar and a bitch of a headache."

"Good…" Ianto's voice sounded distracted.

"What now?" Mariko didn't look up.

"Where's Stephen?" Ianto struggled to keep his voice calm.

"With the second SUV," Mariko still didn't look up, "Why?"

"Call him, please?"

Mariko looked up, "Fuck me sideways."

"Now, Mariko!"

She wasted no more time, "Stephen!" she all but yelled into her com, "Get that car round here now!"

"Coming!" Stephen's voice crackled through her earpiece.

She stayed crouched by Ianto, protecting the still unconscious Ryan, and looked down at the disaster that lay before them. Ianto had been right… in a manner of speaking. The Toclafane had found back up. But they had found it in the refugee camp below. Terror filled screams and the almost gleeful whirring of the Toclafane blended together in discordant harmony.

The screeching of tyres and harshly pressed brakes added to the cacophony of sound. Mariko and Ianto both snapped their heads around to look, letting their shoulders slump in relief, only minutely, as Stephen barrelled around the corner in the SUV. He stopped, skidding a little and visibly fighting the wheel.

He opened the car door and swore as he saw Ryan, "I take it this is why I'm here?"

"Yeah," Mariko stepped around Ryan's prone body and opened the back of the SUV, "I want more weapons too."

"More?" Stephen looked shocked, "What happened to the…" he saw the Toclafane descending on the refugee camp and his expression hardened, "Oh."

He helped Ianto manoeuvre Ryan's limp form into the backseat of the SUV. He carefully shut the door behind him, before moving around the back of the SUV to shut the doors Mariko had left open. Stephen raised an eyebrow when he saw the amount of firepower missing from the back of the car, but shut the door anyway, turning to try and find the petite woman. He frowned. Then ducked his head around the other side of the car. No sign of her.

"Where's Mariko?" he asked of Ianto, making the blonde man's head snap up in horror.

"What?" his eyes darted around, "She's not here?"

"No…" Stephen ran for the driver's seat, "Oh shit."

"What? What, what, what?! No 'oh shit'!" Ianto ran up beside him, then slumped in defeat, "Oh shit."

"What is she doing?" Stephen shook his head as they both watched Mariko skid, practically on her behind, down the embankment leading to the refugee camp.

Ianto shook his head, practically wringing his hands, "I don't know…"

Then, at almost the exact same time, both men saw what had caught Mariko's eye and heartstrings. Animals. Lots of them. Caged and fenced to stop them running wild. Now sitting ducks for the Toclafane. Ianto and Stephen both blanched. Ianto pushed off the SUV and grabbed for some more ammo. Stephen grabbed his wrist. Ianto glared at him.

"What are you doing, Ianto? There's no way you could catch her. And even if you did, you'd only be making yourself a sitting duck too!"

"But…" Ianto growled in frustration.

"Get in the car, you idiot," Stephen shoved him towards the passenger seat, "We'll find her."

Ianto reluctantly got in the SUV and buckled his seatbelt, pulling the door shut. His hands clenched, white knuckled in his pants as Stephen pulled away. He kept his head down, not wanting to watch as they left Mariko behind. Stephen kept his foot on the accelerator, not wanting to give Ianto any opportunity to turn back.

"You'll have to stay with Ryan," Ianto broke the silence.

"What? What about the plan?" Stephen took his eyes off the road for a fleeting second.

"The plan went to hell in a shopping trolley the second Ryan got hurt," Ianto snapped back.

Stephen growled at his tone, but nodded, "Right, I'll take him back to the pub."

Ianto nodded, spotting the rainwater tank and cyclone fence that marked their meeting point, "Here," he said, "Just here."

Stephen braked slowly, eyes flicking up to the mirror, trying to watch both Ryan and the road, "Right. I'll see you back at the pub. Don't die."

"Don't run yourself off the road," Ianto returned the friendly goodbye and slid out of the car.

Stephen drove off. Ianto watched him go, then turned to the rainwater tank, trying to find Spanner and trying to ignore the fact that Mariko should be with him. Mariko… Gunfire echoed through the refugee camp, making Ianto spin on his heel. It also made the refugees panic. En masse, they began to run, scrambling and pushing at each other, trying to get to the gate, to any kind of safety they could find. He stared, wide-eyed, down into the refugees, knowing it was an exercise in futility to try and find Mariko in the sea of people. But… his heart twisted… She was in there somewhere.

He looked around, "Spanner?" he called hesitantly into the crowd, "Connor?"

A few of the refugees that had milled by the gates looked up, "Let 'em go, lad," a sad-eyed old woman called to him, "If they're in there, t'aint no way they comin' back."

Ianto gave her a weak smile in return, "Spanner?" he tried again, "Connor? Nick?"

"Ianto?" he heard faintly.

"Ianto!" came again.

"Spanner!" Ianto shoved through the crowd of refugees fleeing through the gates, "Spanner!"

"Ianto!"

Ianto swung his head round, trying in vain to find his redheaded friend, "Spanner?!"

"Up you useless Welsh bastard, look up!"

Ianto stopped dead, tilting his head back, and spotting Spanner crouched on a rainwater tank above him, "Have you seen her?!" he called up, pushing through the crowd towards Spanner's position.

"Mariko?" Spanner shook her head, moving around on top of her rainwater tank, "Not as yet."

"Christ…" Ianto rose up on his toes, ignoring the blood running down his side from his newly opened wound, "Mariko?!"

"Give it up, Ianto, you'll never find her in this lot," Spanner's eyes were sympathetic, even as her voice was hard, "Get back to the car, dumbass, you're bleeding."

"What's going on?" Connor skidded to a stop next to Ianto, tilting his head up to Spanner.

"Mariko… She's somewhere in there," Spanner jerked her chin at the sea of refugees.

Nick appeared on Ianto's other side, "Jesus Christ…"

"She hurt?" Connor was watching the people intently.

"God, I hope not…" Ianto murmured fervently.

Spanner answered the question for him, "She wasn't last time I saw her."

Connor nodded, "Right then," he shrugged out of his coat, passing it off to Nick, "Hold that," his rifle followed, "And that."

"Connor… what?" Ianto blinked at him.

Connor grinned sheepishly, "That," he pointed to the sea of people that Mariko was lost in, "Looks like a Star Wars Convention Tom, Duncan and I went to in first year. We lost Duncan. He just… wandered off," his eyes softened at the memory, "And if I can find an overweight teenager in glasses at a Star Wars Convention, I can find Mariko in that."

And with that he disappeared into the crowd.

Connor slid through the crowd, bumping into people occasionally, murmuring apologies as he did, eyes scanning around him. Then he saw her. Mariko was pale faced and wan, leaning up against a wall, wedged between a barrel and a dumpster. Blood stained her lower left pants leg, making Connor blanch slightly, even as he hurried towards her.

"Mariko?" he crouched down in front of her.

A gun barrel appeared in front of him, "Don't fuckin' touch me…" the voice was slurred and the hand holding the gun shook slightly, but the ice in Mariko's eyes was unmistakable.

"Easy, Mariko! It's me, its Connor…"

The gun barrel wavered, the dropped back to Mariko's side, "The fuck're you doin' 'ere…?"

"Looking for you," Connor sidled into the tiny space Mariko was wedged into, "If I help you, can you stand?"

"'Spose so," Mariko looped her arms around Connor's shoulders, "Jesus, watch th' leg…"

"Sorry, but you're wedged in here pretty tight," Connor managed to manoeuvre Mariko out from her hidey-hole with as little pain as he could.

Curling an arm around her waist and letting Mariko rest her weight against him, Connor half carried the slight Asian woman back through the crowd. Every person they bumped into now received a snarled curse instead of a murmured apology. When Mariko stumbled against him, Connor helped her over to the nearest wall, lowering her to the floor.

"What're we doin' on the floor 'gain?" Mariko scowled at him, blearily.

"Resting," he told her blandly, "You're fat."

"_Boku no shiri ni kisu siro!"_ Mariko snapped angrily at him, obviously swearing.

"About half past four," Connor returned in the same bland tone.

"_Ketsunoana!"_

"Turn left at the next roundabout."

Mariko glared at him, before mumbling, _"Yaka mashi,"_ something Connor assumed meant he should shut the hell up.

So he did. The two sat in silence, Mariko closing her eyes wearily and leaning her head back against the wall, trying to ignore the pain in her leg. Connor kept watch, eyeing off the crowd of refugees, whilst simultaneously keeping an eye on Mariko.

After a while, Mariko cracked open a weary eye and looked at Connor, "We goin'?"

Connor nodded, "You okay to get up?"

"Yeah," she waited until Connor's dark shaggy head had bent near hers to help her up, then clipped him hard upside the head, "Don't call me fat, you ratbastard."

"Ouch!" Connor grinned wryly at her, "And there's the Mariko we know and love."

Together the two made their way slowly through the sea of refugees once more. Mariko limped heavily, leaning hard against Connor, but she pressed on, encouraged by Connor's words. Connor's eyes scanned the above the crowd for Spanner on top of her water tank. There… He shifted direction slightly, murmuring an apology at Mariko's disgruntled yelp.

Spanner kept her own eyes on the crowd, perched on her water tank. She scanned the sea of people in the impossible task of finding two. Separate or together, she didn't know. She growled to herself at the impossibility of the situation. Spanner pivoted on her heel to tell Ianto that she couldn't find them. And froze. Was that…? Slowly, she moved her head back across the crowd, narrowing her eyes slightly. There!

"They're coming! He has Mariko!"

Ianto stretched up onto his toes, craning his neck, trying to pick Connor out of the crowd, "Where, Spanner?"

Then he spotted them. Spotted her…

"Mariko…" Ianto shoved his way past Nick, breaking into a run and skidding to a stop in front of Connor and Mariko.

"You stupid, stupid woman," he breathed, staring at her leg.

"Hello to you too, Ianto," Mariko turned a weary face up to him.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Ianto none-too-gently elbowed Connor out of the way, curling an arm around Mariko's waist and taking her weight. Mariko leaned against him, a blush staining her cheeks. Her eyes closed wearily and a soft sigh escaped her. Ianto looked down at her, a blush staining his own cheeks. Spanner rolled her eyes at him from the top of the tank and made a kissy face. Ianto scowled.

Glancing down at Mariko's leg again, Ianto blanched. That needed looking at, and soon. He gently nudged the dozing Mariko, making her blink almost sleepily up at him. He wisely didn't comment on the cuteness of that, knowing it would probably cost him a testicle.

"Need to look at your leg," he said quietly.

Mariko glanced down at her leg and grimaced, "Looks worse than it is."

"I'll judge that, shall I?" he raised an eyebrow at her.

Mariko grumbled, but let Ianto lead her over to Spanner's water tank. Ianto was gentle as he eased her down to the ground, gentle as he rolled the leg of Mariko's pants up and over her knee. Mariko still grimaced in pain, however, as the wound in her calf was exposed to the air.

"You were right," Ianto said, raising both eyebrows in surprise, "It's nasty looking, but it's only shallow."

Mariko gave him a wan smile, "Can I say I told you so?"

Ianto returned the smile with a warm one of his own, "No."

"Get a room!" Spanner yelled down from her water tower.

To everyone's surprise it was Mariko who blushed, and Ianto who threw back with a wicked grin, "Good idea, Spanner. Shall we, Mariko?" and gently scooped the smaller woman to his chest, picking her up carefully.

Mariko's face went even redder and she turned her face into Ianto's chest, letting him carry her back to the SUV with surprisingly few protests. Ianto eased her into the backseat, carefully helping her stretch out her wounded leg. Mariko pulled on her seatbelt and looked up, barely containing a fresh round of blushing as she found Ianto's face and chest above her, barely inches from her own.

"Alright?" he asked quietly, concern in his eyes.

Mariko nodded, mouth turning down a little at the corners when her answer made Ianto move away. Ianto slid into the driver's seat of the SUV and pulled out, avoiding the pot holes in the road. It took them longer than normal to reach the pub they had set up camp in, Mariko noted, twisting her head a little to look out the window. A smile flitted across her face. Ianto was driving slowly, studiously avoiding every pot hole and bump in the road.

"I'm not made of glass, Ianto," she called to him.

Ianto's eyes met hers in the rearview mirror. Mariko could see the blush staining the top of his cheeks and tilted her head a little. Hmm… Ianto looked away and the SUV remained at the same steady speed. Mariko resigned herself to settling back, leaning her head against the upholstery and looking out the window.

Pulling up outside the pub, Mariko had her seatbelt unbuckled before the SUV had even finished moving. She tried leaning forward to open the door, but gave up when it sent stabbing pains up her leg and Ianto shot her a disapproving look. Mariko sighed grumpily and flopped back against the door.

Her grumpiness was short lived, however, as Ianto leaned over her, bracing on one hand and helping her scoot forward enough to curl his arms around her and lift her out of the car. He cradled her against his chest, just as he had back at the refugee camp. Mariko couldn't help the soft smile that crept over her face as she all but snuggled into him. Spanner would tease her mercilessly for this, but right now, hearing Ianto's heartbeat under her ear, she honestly didn't care.

Ianto gently set her down on the only couch in the main room, "I'll get the first aid kit. Even if its only shallow, that leg still needs looking at," his eyes were still worried as they ran up the leg in question to Mariko's face.

Ianto disappeared behind the bar, coming back with the wooden Guinness crate that held all their first aid supplies. Mariko went back to being grumpy. This was going to hurt. A lot. Ianto shot her an apologetic look and rolled the leg of her pants up again, making her wince. Fishing through the first aid kit, he pulled on a pair of latex gloves, carefully probing around the wound a little more thoroughly than he had at the refugee camp.

Mariko hissed, biting back the insults against Ianto's parentage. She clenched her hands into fists as Ianto poked at the wound in her leg. Ianto pulled his hands away, slightly bloody, taking off the gloves and digging through the first aid kit again. Mariko craned her neck from where she sat, trying to see what he was looking for.

"Sorry," Ianto said, pulling on a fresh pair of gloves, "I needed to see how deep it was and if there was any gravel or anything in it."

"I know," Mariko gave him a somewhat tight smile in return, then blanched as Ianto pulled out the iodine, "No. Absolutely not."

"Mariko…"

"Don't 'Mariko' me with your sexy Welsh accent!" she snapped at him, belatedly releasing what she had said and steamrolling on to try and cover it up, "That stuff hurts like a motherfucker. That stuff will hurt worse than getting this son-of-a-bitch wound actually did!"

Ianto blinked at her first comment, then a sly smile spread across his face, "Sexy Welsh accent?" he deliberately drew out every vowel and rolled every consonant, mentally noting the way Mariko's eyes widened a little and filing it away for later.

"I… um… oh shit…" Mariko dropped her head into her hands, face flaming, tears of embarrassment starting in her eyes, much to her shame.

"Mariko," Ianto dropped the joking attitude, reaching out one latex covered hand.

"Don't…" Mariko flinched back, "Just… get on with it," she dashed away the tears angrily and turned her face away, resolutely not looking at Ianto.

Ianto opened his mouth to speak, to protest, but, realising the futility of it, shut it again. He uncapped the iodine, poured some onto a gauze piece and carefully wiped it over the wound, wincing in sympathy with every snarled swear word and pained cry Mariko let slip past her gritted teeth.

Ianto finished with the iodine, capping the bottle and setting it aside. Methodically, he picked up the gauze piece he had laid out, pressing it against the wound and taping it down. This was followed by Ianto pulling off his iodine stained gloves and meticulously wrapping bandage around her leg, taping it off just behind Mariko's knee. Ianto let his hand rest for a moment on the uncovered part of Mariko's knee.

"Mariko," he tried again, his voice a little firmer this time.

Still, stubbornly, Mariko refused to look at him. Ianto sighed. He reached out, taking his hand off Mariko's knee and placing it on her cheek. He felt her shiver against his hand and try to pull back, but Ianto was persistent, gently turning her face to look at him. Mariko kept her eyes averted, mouth down turned at the corners.

"Mariko…" there was a little warning in Ianto's voice this time.

Mariko finally raised her eyes, face still flaming, fresh tears of embarrassment starting in the corners of her eyes, "What do you want me to say, Ianto?"

"Nothing," he replied, mouth twitching a little at the surprise on her face, "I think you said enough before."

Her eyes narrowed, "Yeah, laugh it up…" she tried to pull away again.

Ianto kept his hand on her cheek, brushing his thumb across her cheekbone. Mariko stilled almost instantly, unconsciously leaning into the touch. Ianto smiled softly, still gently stroking her cheek. They stayed that way for a long moment before Ianto spoke again.

"Stupid woman," he shook his head fondly, "Just answer me this… Is it just because you want into my pants?" the slightly obscene words sounded odd in Ianto's normally formal tones.

Mariko's face went impossibly red, and she shook her head, "No," she answered quietly.

To her surprise, Ianto's face split into a wide smile, "That's what I wanted to hear, Mariko," he said fervently.

Mariko blinked, the almost cat-like leanings she'd been making into the soft stroking of Ianto's hand on her cheek stopping instantly, "I… what?"

"I'm not a one-night-stand kind of person," Ianto smiled a little sheepishly, "I'm a bit old-fashioned like that."

Mariko blinked again, the stunned-mullet look not leaving her face, "You… what?"

Ianto raised an eyebrow, corners of his mouth twitching, "Have you not figured it out yet?"

Mariko just looked at him. Ianto snickered quietly, fighting to stop as Mariko's look turned dark. Ianto shook his head in fond exasperation once more. His hand left Mariko's cheek, tracing down her arm to take her small hand in his larger one. He watched Mariko blink again and look down at their entwined hands with no small amount of amusement.

"I… Ianto?" Mariko looked back up at him.

Ianto pretended to heave a sigh, "You can be quite dense sometimes, Mariko, you know that, right?" he smiled at her, a slight blush staining his own cheeks, "I love you. Do I need to get Spanner to spell it out in bullet holes on a road sign for me?"

Mariko snorted at that, imagining what Ianto would ask Spanner to write and blushing sweetly, then imagining what Spanner would come up with on her own and snickering filthily. Ianto raised an eyebrow at her and she shook her head, dismissing the thoughts. She smiled hesitantly up at Ianto, who smiled back.

"The bullet riddled road sign won't be necessary," Mariko's smile grew wider as she spoke and she gently squeezed the hand holding hers.

"Oh good," Ianto snorted, "I shudder to think of what Spanner could've come up with if left to her own devices with an AK-47, a blank road sign and the instructions to write a love message."

Mariko replied dryly, "I can imagine."

Ianto's smile grew a little bigger, and became tinged with something that made a shiver slide up Mariko's spine, "But," he said, "Why are we talking about Spanner?"

"Good question," she replied, inwardly hating the breathy tone her voice took on and half-heartedly cursing the man in front of her for being able to do that to her.

"Better things to do," Ianto murmured, even as he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Mariko's cheek.

Mariko let her eyes fall shut, feeling Ianto kiss his way from her cheek around to her lips. A soft sigh escaped her as Ianto pressed his lips against hers. Any lingering pain from her leg was forgotten as Mariko slid her free hand around the back of Ianto's neck. Ianto's free hand slid up the back of Mariko's neck, freeing her hair from the confines of its ponytail and sliding long fingers into the strands. He felt Mariko shiver and almost melt against him and smiled slightly into the kiss.

"Porn! I see porn! Argh! My eyes! My poor innocent, child-like eyes!"

The two jerked apart, both blushing like teenagers busted by their parents. Ianto coughed, scooting back into his chair. Mariko ducked her head, trying to scoop her hair back into its ponytail. The voice from the doorway turned into peals of highly amused laughter. It was joined by the laughter of at least two other voices.

"Bugger you, Spanner," Ianto growled at her.

"Mariko will get jealous," Connor threw out between giggles.

Stephen fought down his own snickers, "Bout time."

Nick let his smile show through, warm and wide, "Well done to you both."

Mariko mumbled to Ianto, "Well, at least one of them is normal."

Then Nick added, "I expect your firstborn to be named after me."

"Or not," they sighed together.

Connor, Nick, Stephen and Spanner came in and draped themselves around the pub, knowing full well that they were annoying the new couple no end. Ianto and Mariko looked at each other and sighed, resigning themselves to the fact that they were going to be pestered no matter what. In retaliation, Ianto shifted across so he was sitting next to Mariko on the bench, tugging on her hand so she curled herself into his chest.

"Eurgh. Someone get a bucket, I think I'm gonna puke," Connor rolled his eyes at them.

Stephen swatted him upside the head, "Leave 'em alone."

"Thank you, Stephen," Ianto looked relieved.

Not for long.

"So, Mariko," Stephen's smile turned slightly evil, "Is Ianto a good kisser? Coz I have to say, I wouldn't mind having a shot at that…"

Mariko smiled sweetly at him, "Why yes, he is a damn good kisser," Ianto spluttered and turned red, "But if I find out that you and I can compare notes… I'll feed your testicles to you."

But the new lovers had little to no time to explore their growing relationship and each other. They had to survive first. If they could survive the hell to come, then perhaps, just perhaps, they could survive being together.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Ianto and Ryan hauled box after box of ammunition from the makeshift armoury into the main room of the pub. Nick and Stephen helped, pulling guns out of their boxes and checking them over, before returning them to their boxes and carrying them up. Connor and Spanner took an SUV each, head down, bum up in the inner workings. Mariko had all their knives laid out on a table in front of her and was sharpening them one by one, carefully honing the blade to a fine edge, before sliding each back into its sheath.

As the final box of ammunition was deposited carefully onto the floor, and Ryan made himself at home by taking a weary seat on it, Ianto cleared his throat, "I… um… I'm not sure if I should make a grand speech here," he said, looking uncomfortable, "I feel as though I should say something… inspiring."

He shrugged self-deprecatingly, "You know, _'… we shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills, we shall never surrender…' _," he sighed, "But I honestly can't think of anything. I can only remember what we're fighting for."

Then he stopped, blushing slightly at all eyes on him, and sat down. He looked back over at Mariko, reaching for her hand. He frowned slightly, realising that she was staring at Connor, Nick, Ryan and Stephen with a kind of stunned horror. He took her hand anyway, giving it a questioning squeeze. She turned to him, the stunned horror still written across her face.

"What is it?" he curled fingers around the back of her neck, stroking them through her ponytail.

But even Ianto's fingers carding through her hair barely calmed her, "Them," she hissed, "We know what we're fighting for, Ianto. This is our home. We're fighting to get back what's ours. But what do they have to fight for?"

Ianto blinked at that, face paling a bit, "Oh my…"

Connor, Nick, Stephen and Ryan all looked at each other, then back at Mariko and Ianto. Each man's face was sad but determined. Stephen shot him a wry smile.

"We'll fight for a way back to our own home."

Spanner nodded, and spoke, uncharacteristically serious, "Fight. And if a way home comes up… Take it. Take it and run."

It was a sombre group that went to their respective beds that night, knowing full well that the next morning it would not only be them against the rest of the world, but them against things from other worlds as well.

Spanner and Mariko fired wildly into the hissing, screeching mass of Toclafane that surrounded them. Mariko's glasses had long since become a casualty of war, as had half of Spanner's left braid, the bedraggled ends now hanging loose and frizzy against her chin. Spanner's eyes kept darting frantically over to Mariko, knowing full well that if she didn't survive this hell-ride, then Ianto wouldn't be likely to either.

Ianto too, kept his eyes on Mariko, much to the chagrin of Ryan. The soldier had, more than once, had to swing away from his intended target and shoot down a Toclafane that was intent on shredding Ianto because the Welshman was too busy trying to keep an eye on Mariko. Ryan finally lost patience when he had to kick Ianto's knees out from under him in order to kill his own Toclafane and stop Ianto from being killed at the same time.

"Fuck's sake, Ianto! Leave her be! Girl could probably kill you six ways from Sunday!" he yelled over the sounds of battle.

Ianto blinked a little stupidly up at him for a moment, then hauled himself back to his feet and resolutely turned his back on Mariko, trying hard to ignore the twinge of overprotective worry that crawled up his spine. He stood, back to back with Ryan, shooting as many of the Toclafane as they could in a battle that they knew they would most likely lose.

His heart nearly stopped when he heard Spanner's scream of, "Shit! Oh, you fuckers!" followed by a flurry of bullets and half-intelligible curses.

He spun, ignoring Ryan's own cursing as the soldier spun too, covering the Welshman as he bolted, "Spanner! Spanner, what the fuck?! Mariko! Mariko?"

Mariko turned her head around the pylon she was taking cover behind, hearing her own name, "Fuck me. Ianto, you wanker…"

She twisted, firing at the Toclafane that were whirring gleefully towards him, excited to see their prey out in the open, "Spanner!" she hissed, "What the fuck just happened?"

"Motherfuckers!" Spanner snapped back, "Mother-rat-screwing-fuckers took my other braid. I have no fucking hair!"

"Shit, Spanner! Is that all?!" Mariko laughed a little hysterically, "It'll grow back, you know it will. But right now, Ianto is running a fucking gauntlet!"

Spanner turned, ducking behind her own pylon as she saw Ianto trying to make his way over to Mariko, "Well, fuck me…" she breathed, eyes flicking to Mariko, "You better survive this, girlie. That's real."

Mariko scowled, "Yeah… tell the whole surviving spiel to that tosser. Fucking kill 'im myself," she reloaded and started firing once more.

Ianto ran, tripping over… something… and skidding the last few feet to Spanner's position on his back, swearing vulgarly as the ground shredded his shirt and opened up fresh grazes and cuts along his back. He rolled to his stomach and into a crouch, staggering the last few steps to where Spanner was hidden by the pylon. He blinked as he took in the frizzy, bedraggled hair, both braids now lost to the war.

"Spanner? Is she…? Mariko, where is she?"

A shotgun boomed and a female voice screamed a furious insult in Japanese, before yelling back, "I'm here, you idiot! Don't ever do that again! Or I'll shoot you my goddamn self!"

Connor lay on his stomach on top of the rainwater tank, firing and reloading, firing and reloading. The part of his mind that wasn't analysing his next target and risk assessing, was half-heartedly praying that the Toclafane didn't work out where all the bullets were coming from. His arms ached, his back muscles twitched spasmodically from holding that position so long and he wasn't sure he could move his legs to get up and run if he had to. But there was no way in hell that Connor was going to stop firing, he tilted the scope down a little, catching sight of two faces, before turning it back up to keep firing at the Toclafane. Nick and Stephen were down there.

A glint of light flickered across Connor's scope, nearly blinding him, "Motherfucker," he snarled at it, wiping his watery eyes before turning back to the scope once more.

What he saw nearly made him leap up and give his position away. Glittering in what Connor thought was a disgustingly cheerful manner was an anomaly. Not the shimmering gold that had brought them here, but the normal shattered-glass white. Connor snorted quietly, still firing and reloading, even as he eyed the anomaly. What about this or the bloody anomalies was normal?

"Oi!" he hissed into his headset, "I see an anomaly."

"You're shittin' me," Ryan's incredulous voice came back.

"Connor, are you sure?" Nick and Stephen spoke the same words, a half a beat apart.

Connor rolled the eye that wasn't pressed to the scope, "Coz I'm normally so wrong about these things…" he snapped back, too tired and sore to worry about politeness, "Yes, it's an anomaly. Not gold, but it's still bloody there."

Spanner's voice filtered into their earpieces, "Guess this is goodbye then, ladies."

Connor blinked, "What? Can't go yet… We gotta…"

Mariko cut in then, "Idiot. You were the one who explained it to us. They don't hang around long. It's taken seven months for this one to show up…"

Ianto interrupted her, "Take it while you can. Ryan, Stephen, Nick, go. Connor, cover them, then we'll cover you. That's an order."

Ryan's voice went next, low and a little subdued, "Thanks… Don't die, yeah?"

Spanner snickered, "Don't plan on it."

Connor sighed softly, before pulling himself back together and focusing back on his targets, "Alright, I'm set, you lot get going. They're right and I'm right, we don't know how long this'll last."

Down on the ground, Nick exchanged a glance with both Stephen and Ryan, before looking, almost awkwardly over at Mariko and Ianto, "I… well…"

Mariko rolled her eyes and reloaded her gun, "Fuck off. And I mean that in the nicest possible way."

Stephen snorted, curling his arm around Nick's waist, "Come on. Connor's gotta be running outta bullets up there."

Ryan nodded, "Come on."

And then they were gone, racing as best they could over the ground towards the anomaly, Connor calling directions into their earpieces as they ran. Ianto waited, listening to Spanner over his earpiece, before calling up to Connor, telling him to move. Connor hesitated only briefly, then hauled himself over the edge of the rainwater tank, swearing harshly as his back muscles screamed in protest. He landed on shaky legs and fell to his knees, stood up and ran a few steps before falling to his knees again, still swearing. He pushed himself to his feet once more and bolted after Nick, Stephen and Ryan.

"Hey!" Connor yelled, making sure that Ryan, Nick and Stephen heard him coming, "Hey!"

It proved to be a foolish mistake on his part. Hearing his voice, Nick and Stephen slowed, guns coming up to cover him as he caught up with them. Ryan, however, ran past them. Only by a few steps before he realised what was going on, but it was a few steps too many. As Stephen and Nick were firing into the clouds of Toclafane, to protect Connor, Ryan was left exposed, gun cradled to his chest.

"Hey! Hey, hey, hey! No!" Connor waved his arms, trying to get Nick and Stephen's attention, "Not me!"

Only his last words got their attention, making them both look at each other in shock then turn back. Ryan… Oh shit. They swung their guns up and around, but it was too late. Ryan had his gun up and was firing at a Toclafane headed straight for him. Bullets clanged off the creature's metal shell, but it kept coming, lashing out with its blade-like arms and opening up a cross-hatching of gashes across Ryan's chest.

Ryan screamed, eyes widening as he stared down at his ruined chest in shock, "…Shit…"

Then he fell.

"Jesus…" Connor hissed, eyes widening, then forced his legs to move even faster, "Ryan!"

Nick and Stephen reached him first, Stephen pulling his jacket off and pressing it hard onto the bleeding wounds, making Ryan scream again and flail at him with the butt of his gun. Stephen used one arm to keep pressure on the wound and snarled something unintelligible at Nick as he slid his other arm around Ryan's waist. Nick dropped down next to him and helped him pull Ryan up, trying to ignore the pitiful moans the soldier was making. Connor kept his back to them, walking backwards to the anomaly as he tried to cover them as best he could.

"Ah, fuck it!" Connor swore as he tried to reload only to find that there was nothing to reload.

He glanced over his shoulder quickly, Stephen and Nick were right at the edge of the anomaly with Ryan. Bugger this. Connor tossed his now useless gun to the ground, spun on his heel and ran. The Toclafane ran with him, making Connor yelp as one got in a lucky swipe, opening up a cut across his ribs. Nick and Stephen disappeared through the anomaly with the pale and bloodied Ryan. Connor put on a fresh burst of speed from his achingly tired legs and flung himself through.

He landed on sand.

Connor patted the sand under his back idly for a moment, still staring up at the blue, slightly cloudy sky, "What. The. Fuck?" he enunciated clearly.

Ryan's slurred and shocky voice spoke up, "Please. Please tell me we're at Blackpool or summat."

Connor rolled onto his stomach, wincing as the wound in his back pulled, and looked around. This was so not Blackpool. This was… Connor tried to force his brain back into its student mindset. Think. Look. Stop with the risk assessment and look. Where are we? Connor scrunched his face up and tried to force his tired mind to provide him with the answer. …Permian?

Permian.

"Sorry, Ryan. Not Blackpool. This is the Permian era," Connor let his head drop down onto his arms, his hopeless sigh disturbing the sand underneath him, "Jesus, the bloody Permian."

"Permian…" Nick seemed to be thinking out loud, then he looked at Ryan, "Christ."

"What?" Stephen stood up, "Is he okay?"

"As okay as he can get," Nick sighed, "I just… The first time we came through an anomaly, Ryan and I found a skeleton, a male one. In the Permian."

"So…?" Stephen looked confused.

"So, if we've screwed with timelines, seven seconds in our world, seven months in their's, who's skeleton was it?" Connor paled a little, then his eyes skittered across to Ryan, "Oh no way. You're not thinking…"

"No," Stephen's voice cut in firmly, "No-one is thinking anything. We are going to find another anomaly and we are going to go home."

"There's one," Ryan waved vaguely, "If you've finished discussin' how 'm gonna die an' all."

They all blinked at the soldier, who blinked back, "…What?"

Then they turned, sure enough, glittering about two hundred metres away, was an anomaly. Connor forced himself to his feet, grimacing again as the wound in his back complained at the amount of sand that had found its way in. He took off his belt, passing it around Ryan's chest and tightening it over the makeshift pressure gauze that was Stephen's shirt. Ryan yelled again, lashing out weakly and hitting Connor in the chest.

"There. That's gotta be easier than tryin' to hold it down and walk."

Nick and Stephen nodded their thanks and scooped Ryan up as best they could, Stephen fumbling at his hip quickly, "Connor!" he tossed a Beretta to him.

Connor caught it and checked the magazine, "Three bullets?"

"Better than nothing."

The bedraggled looking group made their way towards the anomaly incredibly slowly but as fast as they could. At fifty metres the anomaly started to pulse, making Ryan swear and start to struggle, demanding to be left behind. That made the other three pale and hold him even tighter, putting on a fresh burst of speed and ignoring the pained yells the captain made.

At twenty, it started to flicker, making them all swear in the various amalgamations of languages they had picked up in their time in the… wherever they were. At five, the soft whooshing noise that accompanied the end of an anomaly began to sound ominously. At two, Stephen and Nick all but threw Captain Tom Ryan through the anomaly, the soldier heaving curses and pained yells at them all way.

Then, barely sparing a glance at each other, the remaining three men hurled themselves through, shoulders, hips and heads all bumping together painfully. Connor landed face down in the mud, laying dazed for a moment, spitting out the mud that had gotten in his mouth, before rolling onto his back and pointing the gun up at anything that may or may not be there. Nick skidded on his side in the mud, only stopping when he hit a tree. Stephen landed flat on his back, mud splattering up his face as he watched the anomaly blink and disappear, a small, hysterical giggle forcing itself out of him before he stuffed his muddied fist into his mouth to prevent any more.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

**March 21**

**Friston Forest**

**11:26:28am**

Lyle sighed, watching the anomaly shimmer cheerfully at him. Still no Ryan. Or Cutter. Or Hart. Or Temple. He checked his watch. True, it had been only fifteen seconds. But still… He checked his watch again, noticing that the other men kept doing the same. His head tilted and he slowly brought his gun up as the anomaly flickered gently. That wasn't good.

"What the bloody hell…?!" Lyle barely stopped himself from skittering backwards as something was flung through the anomaly, landing with a heavy thud.

"_Ketsunoana!"_

Lyle trained his gun on the obviously swearing, bloodied heap that fell through the anomaly.

"_Ta mere est une chienne!"_

Lyle stared, gun wavering a little. That voice sounded awfully familiar…

"Fucking bastards!"

Holy shit… Lyle lowered his gun, gesturing for the men next to him to do the same, "Sir? Captain Ryan?"

"Lyle!" Ditzy's yell made him haul his gun back up, just as another dogpile came barrelling out of the anomaly to land in the mud.

A blonde man skidded in the mud, swearing as he slid into a tree. A dark haired man flew out with him, landing flat on his back, blinking dazedly and gasping as the wind was knocked out of him. Another dark haired man wearing more holsters than even the most heavily armed SAS man there, as well as a couple of knives, fell face down in mud. Lyle heard him cough and hack on the mud for a moment, before he rolled slowly onto his back, eyes widening and a small handgun coming up as he spotted the soldiers surrounding him.

Lyle blinked, lowering his gun, despite the fact that the man on the floor only held a Beretta, "Temple?" he took a step closer, eyes widening as Connor's eyes turned icy and he flicked the safety off, scooting himself backwards through the mud towards Stephen and Ryan, "Okay, okay… Easy… Easy… It's me… It's Lyle. Yeah? And Ditzy? You remember? Bloody hell, Temple, what happened?"

Connor blinked, slowly letting the gun fall into the mud, "Lyle? What? Where were you? Why…" the dark head shook forlornly, mud matting the hair, "Why didn't you come for us?"

Lyle stared. Connor looked so betrayed, so lost. But… they'd only been gone fifteen seconds. What…? He glanced down at the other men with him. And stared some more. Hart. Hart was the dark haired man who landed on his back, the normally artfully tousled hair now flat to his head and gelled down with mud and blood. And… Lyle was almost scared to look. Well, shit. Cutter. Cutter was the blonde. Longer hair and a pink, still-healing scar that ran from his left temple all the way down to his chin. But it was still Cutter.

Ditzy said it best.

"What the fucking hell happened to you lot?"

The medic was on his knees beside Ryan. He'd eased away the makeshift bandage and raised an eyebrow at what he saw. Ryan's chest was… quite frankly… compromised to fuck. Ditzy met Ryan's pain-hazed eyes and gave him a quizzical look then a wry smile, hands working busily with painkillers and iodine. Ditzy then turned back to Lyle, who looked at him hopefully. The medic shrugged one shoulder, hands still working to apply a clean pressure bandage.

"Call for an ambulance. I don't know, Lyle, I just don't know."

Lyle watched, a pang in his chest, as Ryan was loaded into the ambulance, before turning back to Cutter, Temple and Hart, "Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on?" he all but whined.

It didn't escape him that they'd moved until they were all sitting together, nor did it escape him that they were sitting very close together. All touching in some way. Cutter in the middle, Hart on the left, Temple on the right. But Hart's leg was thrown across both their laps and Temple's arm was draped across both their shoulders.

Lyle tilted his head. They looked like lovers. They looked like soldiers. They looked far worse than he had when he'd come back from the Balkans. But… fifteen seconds? Fifteen seconds wasn't enough to have made such… His gaze travelled to the scar on Cutter's cheek. That was at least a month or two old. And it hadn't been there fifteen seconds ago. Something… something wasn't right. Were these the right people?

Lyle took a cautious step forward, holding his hands up in a placating manner as Stephen practically bared his teeth at him, "Go easy, go easy… I just wanna know what happened."

It was Nick who replied, sighing as Stephen and Connor turned away from Lyle and practically buried their faces in his neck, "We were stuck. We went through the anomaly and were trapped in a war zone for four months before Ryan showed up. Then we were trapped for another three months before we were able to get back here."

"Seven months?" Lyle looked a little incredulous at first, but blinked as it slowly started to make sense, "Seven months…"

"Yeah, Lyle," Stephen's voice came to him, making Lyle turn to meet a pair of the coldest eyes he'd ever seen, "Seven months. Didn't you notice?"

Lyle shook his head, holding his hands up to try and keep the peace, "Swear to God, Hart… Stephen, it was only fifteen seconds. That's all."

Stephen's eyes narrowed, hand moving idly on Connor's hip, "Prove it."

Lyle nodded, "Sure. Course I will. Um…" the Special Forces soldier cast around for something to prove himself.

"Your watch!" Stephen barked.

Lyle very nearly started backwards at the pure ice that came with Stephen's voice, "Right, right," he tried to fumble it off his wrist.

"No. Here," Stephen gestured him forward.

Lyle nodded again, "Okay… alright… here," he held out his wrist to Stephen.

Lyle swore as he was yanked off balance. He turned an irritable face towards Stephen and froze, suddenly uncaring that he was being bent awkwardly and his arm was twisted painfully so Stephen could see his wrist. The cold metal of a gun barrel at his temple was enough to make him completely indifferent to such inconsequential things, and made him realise that the hand idly stroking Connor's hip hadn't been so idle after all. Lyle swallowed hard and stayed as still as he could, hoping like hell that Stephen was still Stephen enough to not shoot him if he didn't like the results.

Stephen grabbed at Lyle's wrist, not really caring that he was both hurting and scaring the other man. Hardbitten instinct had him pressing the barrel of Connor's gun, the only gun they had left between the three of them, against Lyle's temple. He blinked mud and sweat out of his eyes, trying to read the watch. His face paled, his hands started to shake. The gun fell away from Lyle's temple and his hand slowly uncurled from Lyle's wrist.

The soldier stood up, rubbing his wrist slightly, habitually glancing down at the watch himself.

March 21. 11:32:45.

_**THE END**_


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

**Epilogue**

It was over. Over and done. They were home. They were safe. He, Nick and Stephen were living together and loving together and their scars were slowly fading, both internal and external. Ryan was getting better, and, Connor smirked as he thought about it, fingers idly clicking across the minesweeper board on his laptop, Lyle never seemed to leave his side. The thought of Lyle sitting beside Ryan's injured form made his thoughts turn to Mariko, and her vigil anytime Ianto got hurt.

He tilted his head to the side, clicking on a new game of minesweeper as he lost his old game, "Where are they…?"

Minesweeper was forgotten as he opened up a search engine. He frowned at the window for a moment before dismissing something so pedestrian as Google and using every computer skill he had, those of both legitimate and dubious legality, to attempt to find the three people they had fought and survived with.

Spanner, aka Sallyann Mitchell-Drayson, was, to Connor's surprise, the easiest to find. On the website for Walnut Tree Walk Primary School, smiling with her arms around two redheaded boys at a sports carnival. Her sons… Connor blinked, remembering the story Mariko had told them. Sallyann Mitchell-Drayson… Connor stared at the computer screen. She never became Spanner, never had a reason to…

"_Mum! Mum, look I won!"_

_Sallyann smiled widely at her eldest son as he raced over to her, blue ribbon flapping behind him as he tried to talk a mile a minute. She pulled him into a hug, shifting her youngest son on her hip and waiting for a pause in the chatter so she could congratulate him. _

"_Blue!" her youngest announced proudly, pointing to the ribbon._

"_That's right, precious, it's blue," Sallyann turned back to her eldest, pushing one of her braids over her shoulder, "And I'm so proud of you."_

Ianto Jones was a little harder. Jones wasn't exactly the most distinguishing of last names, after all. But Connor found him, in the employee records of Morgan Walker Solicitors. He smiled a little, reading through the 'Employee of the Month' awards. His smile dimmed a little as he saw 'Marital Status: Single' on Ianto's records. Connor checked it again. Single? He wasn't with Mariko?

Connor frowned. If Ianto wasn't with Mariko… then where was Mariko? Connor's hands flew over the keyboard. Mariko Katsukaro… No. Too young. Too old. Wrong spelling. Died too long ago. Not in the UK. Connor began to mutter to himself as he opened and closed windows, finding and dismissing search results before retrying other avenues.

His mutterings soon turned to vulgar curse words, prompting Stephen to look up from the book he was reading, feet cushioned against Connor's side, "I don't think that's anatomically possible," he said mildly, turning the book over to rest on his chest.

Nick stuck his head around the door, backing through it awkwardly, three mugs of coffee in his hand, "I know that's not anatomically possible. What's put a burr up your butt, Connor?" he set the mugs down, passing one to Stephen, one to Connor and keeping one for himself.

"I can't find her," Connor muttered absently, sipping at his coffee and typing one handed, left thigh turned out to accommodate a knife that wasn't there.

Nick and Stephen exchanged looks, Connor in this mood normally meant sleepless nights and not a few bruises, "Can't find who?"

They exchanged another look as he replied matter-of-factly, "Mariko."

Connor looked away from his screen and sighed at the wariness on his lovers' faces, "I'm not going mad, really. I just… want to see if they're still around. You know? Mariko, Spanner and Ianto. I want to see if they're here, but we never met them."

Nick and Stephen relaxed slightly, nodding, "Fair enough," Stephen tried to look over at the screen.

Connor teasingly shifted the screen so Stephen couldn't see it, making Nick grin and ask, "Alright, I'll bite… What've you found?"

Connor moved the screen so all three of them could see it, "I found Spanner first," he pointed to the picture, "Remember what Mariko told us about her sons? She never had to become Spanner in this world."

"God," Stephen shook his head, "That's almost surreal. Who was next?"

"Ianto," Connor said, clicking onto a new window, "Employee of the month at a law firm. Torchwood doesn't exist here. I mean, really doesn't exist, not just 'you didn't see anything' exist," then he trailed off.

"And you can't find Mariko?" Stephen finished.

Connor shook his head, the dark scowl sliding back over his face once more.

Nick stroked a hand over his shoulder, "Have… have you tried just Googling her, Conn?"

Connor's hands froze, poised above the keyboard, "Erm… no?" he grinned sheepishly at Nick, "I'll just…" his hands moved over the keyboard once more, calling up a new window.

Connor shot Nick a flat look, "And there she is. Sharpe Fairbrother Chartered Accountants," he smiled, "She's still a tax consultant."

Stephen snorted a little, "So Spanner's a stay-at-home mum. Well, we knew she was before the Toclafane. And Ianto is a legal secretary and Mariko is a tax consultant."

_Mariko Katsukaro leant back in her chair and sighed. Her eyes flicked behind her glasses to the second drawer in her desk. She sighed again and pulled open the drawer, drawing a set of papers towards her and placing them on the desk in front of her. She'd had them for nearly three months now, the Army Reserve application forms. But she still hadn't filled in even her name at the top. Her hand reached for a pen. This time…_

_The door was pushed open, revealing her next client, "Hello?" a low, lilting voice was accompanied by a pair of the bluest eyes Mariko had ever seen._

_Mariko pulled the file over to cover her Army Reserve forms, mentally cursing herself, face flushing with embarrassment, "Hello. I'm Mariko. You must be Mr. Jones?" _

_She stood up to her full 5'1 and held out a hand, noting that 'Mr Jones' was at least a foot taller than her and a good deal broader. He gave her a shy, but friendly smile and shook her hand._

"_Ianto," the smile turned a little wicked, "Mr Jones sounds like I'm from a bad spy movie."_

_Ianto's taxes turned out to be stupidly complex, making Mariko sigh as the clock ticked over to five-thirty, "Look… Ianto… you may as well head home. I'll get these done, not a problem, but it's going to take me another three hours at least."_

_Ianto looked slightly affronted, "I can't leave you here, by yourself, with my taxes. Especially not without buying you dinner," he finished on a blush, "If… that's alright with you…"_

_It was very alright with Mariko. And it was with a shy, but still beaming smile that she and 'Mr Jones' exchanged numbers over empty Chinese take out boxes and finally finished tax returns._

Connor frowned at the screen in front of him, Stephen's words echoing in his ears. Spanner a stay-at-home mum. Mariko a reserved, meek looking tax consultant. Ianto a legal secretary. He sighed, closing down the laptop and pushing it away from him, suddenly wishing that he hadn't bothered looking for the three people that they'd fought and bled with in the bizarre alternate universe.

Because these people, the ones he had found, they weren't the people Connor knew. The names were the same, hell, they may even sound the same, have similar quirks, like their tea made the same. But Mariko Katsukaro, Spanner and Ianto Jones, the ones he knew, would forever stay memories now.


End file.
